


Snapshots of a Life (30 Day OTP Challenge)

by AngeNoir



Category: The Losers (2010)
Genre: 30 Day OTP Challenge, Drabbles, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-26
Updated: 2013-05-26
Packaged: 2017-12-13 00:26:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 30
Words: 22,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/817793
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AngeNoir/pseuds/AngeNoir
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A 30-drabble collection revolving around Cougar and Jensen's relationship.</p>
<p>Each chapter may have a different rating; see beginning notes for rating and prompt.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Jealousy

**Author's Note:**

> _1\. Holding Hands_ , **G**

Jensen didn’t mind all that much, when they walked into a bar and Cougar was immediately on the radar of every woman and a few men within the building. Cougar was hot, and Jensen knew it. It annoyed him sometimes, when Cougar would smile and flirt back, but that was just possessiveness and Jensen could acknowledge that.

Objectively.

But it was one thing to walk into a bar, and watch as Cougar grinned and flirted and looked like sin with that cowboy hat on. It was something altogether different when Cougar was practicing on the range and there was another soldier squirming up to Cougar like an eel. An ugly eel that wasn’t even cute. Okay, kinda cute, but Jensen was offended. Angry.

…Okay, jealous. But that jealousy was well-deserved, Jensen thought, taking another mag and emptying it into the target, trying not to let his eyes wander over to where Cougar was showing off his sharpshooting skills. So many people gave Jensen second looks, surprised stares, skeptical once-overs, when they found out Cougar was with him. Yeah, Cougar was a hot Latino male with a fine ass and an innocent look, and Jensen was dorky and pasty white, but Jensen was just as sculpted, thank you very much. They both had PT, and Jensen did more CAPE than anyone so he was in particularly fine form.

Growling under his breath, he checked the gun in and walked over to where Cougar was with the little sergeant. Cougar, seeing him come over, put the gun down and looked at him expectantly.

“You ready to go, Cougs? Dinner in the mess hall.”

“We can catch up. Go on ahead,” the sergeant said dismissively, turning his back on Jensen and looking at Cougar expectantly.

Cougar squinted at the man, and then at Jensen, and then a fond look appeared in his eyes even though the rest of his face remained blank and still. Without a word, he disarmed his gun and moved over to check it in.

The sergeant stared at Cougar in shock, then at Jensen in dislike and even anger. Jensen just smiled as goofily as he could and bounded over to Cougar’s side, babbling about anything and everything, smirking at the disgruntled man left at the booth.

Cougar smiled knowingly, and wound his fingers in with Jensen’s.

Jensen fell silent, because holding hands was a more eloquent statement than anything else, and he squeezed around Cougar’s strong fingers.

Cougar squeezed back.


	2. Siberia

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _2\. Cuddling Somewhere_ , **T**

“It’s fucking freezing.”

“Shut  _up,_  Jensen.”

“You shut up, my balls are frozen solid.”

“No one wants to hear about your balls, Jensen.”

Jensen glowered at Roque, hands tucked into his armpits and hunched against the cabin wall in the middle of freaking Siberia. “Fuck you, my balls are national treasures.”

“Shut up, Jensen,” Clay grunted from the other wall, trying (and failing) to get a fire going.

“Cougs wants to hear about my balls. Right, Cougs?”

Cougar gave him an unimpressed stare.

“See if I let you near my balls again, then,” Jensen pouted, which was ruined slightly by his chattering teeth and violent shivers.

“Stop whining,” Pooch grunted. “We’re all fucking cold, you bitching about it isn’t changing anything.”

Jensen glared at his teammates. “You all suck at giving sympathy. What about my balls?”

“Jensen, I’mma cut your balls off so you stop whining about them, how’s that?” Roque snarled.

Clay let out a sharp sigh. “Shut up and go to sleep. Our contact will be here tomorrow and then we can get out of this wasteland.”

Brow furrowed, Jensen glared at Roque and Pooch, who rolled up in their bedrolls and seemingly dropped straight off. Out of all of them, Cougar appeared to be the least affected by the cold. That actually had no bearing at all on the situation, because frankly, Cougar hated cold more than any of them.

“All you had to do was chime in and we could be up by the fire instead of out here on the edges taking watch,” Jensen hissed at Cougar.

Cougar glowered at Jensen and turned his attention back to the window.

And yeah, Jensen got that Cougar, being the youngest out of the group, often felt he needed to prove himself, but c’mon, the guy was so cold he wasn’t even shivering anymore. Heaving a sigh, Jensen wiggled his way over to Cougar’s side and leaned against the silent sniper.

Cougar looked down his nose at Jensen.

“Shut up. Don’t give me that look - you brought this coldness down on yourself,” Jensen muttered, but his actions belied his words as he slowly uncurled his body - wincing at the coldness as he did so - and wrapped his arms and legs around Cougar’s cross-legged form.

Cougar held himself stiffly against Jensen’s chest, until Jensen began rubbing his hands over the skinny but strong arms, pressing his nose in the crease of Cougar’s neck and shoulder.

Cougar twitched, and Jensen huffed out a breath, pressing a soft kiss against the column of Cougar’s throat. “Look, if you’re cold, just fucking tell someone. I’m not ashamed to do this in front of them. After all, Clay’s still watching.”

_That_  put color in Cougar’s cheeks, and he whipped around and nearly slammed his forehead into Jensen’s, if Jensen hadn’t jerked his head back.

Clay waved.

“They’re cool with it, Cougs. If you are?”

For a long moment, Cougar remained tense and still in Jensen’s arms, and then he let out a soft grumble and something that sounded like a curse.

Jensen grinned against the back of Cougar’s neck and hooked his chin on the sniper’s shoulders. “I’ll be your cuddle-buddy,” he said in a sing-song voice.

“Shut the fuck  _up_ , Jensen!”


	3. Buffy's A Badass Chick

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _3\. Gaming/Watching a Movie_ , **G**

There was a chorus of groans when his team walked into the house and saw Jensen sitting in front of the television. Not that Jake much cared - after all, they abandoned him to the doctors’ not-so-tender hands and went out drinking after their last mission. And yeah, a busted up leg wasn’t exactly conducive to going out to a bar, but really, they didn’t all have to disappear and leave him here.

So he was going to watch whatever he goddamn well wanted to. And if that meant going through his entire collection of Buffy the Vampire Slayer seasons, well, it’s not like anyone had been around to veto the choice because they all had been horrible traitors who had left Jensen here alone.

“C’mon, Jensen, the game’s on!” Pooch complained.

Jensen hugged the remote to his chest, bad leg propped up on the low table, and glared at all of them. “You guys abandoned me!”

“You were fucking asleep! And you weren’t even supposed to be let out this early; they told us to pick you up tomorrow morning!” Pooch responded.

Roque growled at the both of them and stormed past, making his way up to his quarters. While on base, they all lived together, and they all had their own room except for Cougar and Jensen (which may or may not have contributed to their current status as boyfriends, but Jensen wasn’t going to look a gift room assignment in the mouth).

Clay stared at Jensen a moment, then shook his head. “Did you get kicked out of medical again?”

“Look, it’s not my fault that they don’t allow electronics in the rooms! I’d be fine if they’d just give me a fucking tablet or, fuck, a video game or something!” Jensen replied hotly, ears flushing.

“Right.” Clay stared at him another moment, and then patted Pooch’s shoulder. “Might as well head to bed, since he’s in that mood.”

“What mood?!” Jensen demanded, which made Pooch’s shoulder slump and Pooch ended up nodding, following Clay into the kitchen.

“Seriously, what mood?!” Jensen growled, turning to Cougar.

Cougar cocked his head at Jensen a moment, and then gestured to the scene.

“Buffy’s a badass chick and I know you were making eyes at James Marsters’ awesome ass!” Jensen accused, pointing a finger at Cougar’s chest. “Besides, you abandoned me to those evil doctors!”

A smile twitched at the corners of Cougar’s mouth, and then he was moving over to the couch and folding himself against Jensen’s side. “Popcorn?” he asked quietly.

Jensen froze a moment - he’d watched and rewatched and rewatched Buffy so many times that his teammates hated the series, so Cougar just plopping down to watch it with him was extremely out of character, to say the least - and then tentatively relaxed. “Was difficult enough to limp into the house,” he finally muttered, cheeks tinted red with embarrassment. “Didn’t go all out.”

Cougar humphed and stood up. “Do not start the next episode,” he ordered, and then disappeared into the kitchen.

Jensen wasn’t certain if Cougar felt guilty for leaving him alone, or pity for Jensen’s predicament, but Cougar sat through six episodes and a half - and for all Jensen knew, Cougar sat through seven, because in the end it had been Jensen to fell asleep, Cougar tucked against his side, the entire house dark except for the light of the television, and the popcorn bowl picked clean in his lap.


	4. How (Not) To Ask For A Date

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _4\. On a date_ (which I interpreted as asking for a date. oops.), **T**

Jensen poked at his sandwich listlessly, listening as Roque growled and complained about their latest mission. Which, yeah, no one liked the cold, no one really wanted to be out there in the cold, but at least it wasn’t fucking Siberia. Pooch was ignoring Roque with the long-term practice only someone who’d been on Roque’s team since the beginning of time could manage. Clay, of course, was off-base, most likely at a bar.

Come to think of it, that’s probably why Roque was bitching. After all, everyone knew Clay only picked up the crazy ones, and Roque was almost always left picking up after the hurricane the woman made of their lives and Clay’s health.

Cougar, though, Cougar was sitting across the table for once. Generally, when they had downtime between missions, Cougar was out drinking and flirting with the best of them. This time, though, he was here, and Jensen was watching Cougar lean back in his chair, balancing on two legs, hat tipped down over one eye, chuckling at points when Roque’s moaning and bitching reached a crescendo, or when Pooch shot well-deserved quips at Roque.

“Dude, you’re fucking silent and it’s creeping me the fuck out,” Roque finally said, turning to glare at Jensen as if Jensen had personally slighted him.

Jensen stared at him a moment, and then turned to Cougar, who was looking at him curiously. Their last mission, Cougar had had to pretend to be on a date with their contact so he could get into position to cover Clay while he met with the bad guy of the week (okay, an Afghani leader who they suspected to be running drugs, but really, they all started to blend after a while). Cougar being on a date with someone else had made Jensen realize that, for all that they’d been ‘together’ for about four months (yes, Jensen was counting), they’d never gone on a date.

“You like James Bond movies, right Cougs? I have a couple of passes to the local movie theater,” he said.

Pooch, Roque, and Cougar stared at Jensen a moment, and then a gleeful, almost vicious smile appeared on Roque’s face. “Corporal, are you asking your sergeant out on a date?”

Jensen tried valiantly to keep his cheeks from blushing. It didn’t work.

Cougar let the chair fall down onto all four legs, tilting his head curiously at Jensen, and realizing the growing grins on Pooch and Roque’s face, he went even redder and cleared his throat. “Just - you know what? I’m really not that hungry, you know, and yes, Roque, you’re so funny, I don’t even feel bad with whatever girl Clay drags home because you’re so funny you deserve it,” he said, getting up from the table and stretching. “See you, fuckers.”

“Ah, c’mon, Jay, don’t be like that!” Roque teased, and Pooch made an aborted move towards Jensen’s sandwich.

“Fuck off, Roque,” Jensen said, keeping his voice light, and shot Pooch a death glare. “And put my fucking sandwich in the fridge; I’ll eat it when I’m hungry.”

Pooch smirked, and Jensen knew at least half his sandwich would be eaten before he would get to it, but it didn’t matter because it was pretty girly to ask Cougar out on a date, wasn’t it?

He made his way upstairs, grumbling under his breath, and moved to his and Cougar’s room. Minutes after he closed the door behind him, though, it opened again and Cougar walked in.

Jensen promptly flushed again and he folded his arms defensively. “What?” he asked.

“Did you mean it?”

“Of course I did! Why, why would I ask you if I didn’t mean it?” Jensen demanded.

Cougar lifted one shoulder and then walked over to where Jensen was sitting, moving into Jensen’s personal space and leaning down so they were practically nose to nose. “Si,” he said quietly. “I like James Bond shit.”

It took Jensen a few minutes before he understood what Cougar was saying. “Wait - you - yes? To a date? With me?”

“Unless you didn’t mean it,” Cougar said, once more lifting his shoulder and taking a step back.

“No, no, I meant it! I just - yeah, sure, let me grab the passes - wait, today? Or are you tired? We can do it tomorrow - “

Cougar let out a fond smile and bent down, kissing Jensen softly. Jensen felt his whole being slow, all his attention on Cougar, and when Cougar pulled back, he ruffled Jensen’s spiky hair. “I am always willing to go on a date with you, Jensen.”

“Well - well that’s great then, because, seriously, four months, not one date, I was a bit worried, but that’s good, that’s great!”

Chuckling, Cougar took a step back and nodded to the door. “I’ll be waiting. You pay.”

“Sure - hey wait, you cleaned me out last night at poker, you know you did, you little cheating fucker, why am I paying?”

Cougar turned around and gave him a smoldering look, and Jensen felt his knees go weak.

“That’s not fair,” he said in a faint croak.

Smirking, Cougar exited the room.

“Fuck,” Jensen breathed out, voice shaky.


	5. The Study of Kisses (Could Fill A Fucking Novel)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _5\. Kissing_ , **E**

Cougar felt like he could write a fucking novel on the different ways Jensen kissed him. There’s the everyday, causal, easy peck-on-the-lips kisses, a shock of touch and warm breath and plush lips and then it’s gone, Jensen’s dancing away like dandelion seeds in the wind.

Then there are the possessive, life-or-death kisses Cougar gets when he wakes up in the hospital, surprised to be alive - or, conversely, the reaffirming kisses Cougar gets when Jensen opens his eyes after being in the hospital himself. Both kisses were similar enough that Cougar classified them as different aspects of the same sensations: needy whimpers, desperate nipping and sucking of lips and tongue, fingers curling around the nape of Cougar’s neck to hold the sniper close, breath hot and moist and urgent against Cougar’s cheeks and eyes. Those kisses only ever happened in hospitals of some kind, and ended with Jensen pressing feather-light kisses to Cougar’s eyelids, his nose, the corners of his eyes. Cougar liked those.

Then there were, of course, kisses that were nothing more than glorified foreplay - dirty and hot, slides of tongue over teeth and gums, sucks and thrusts that were nothing more than foreshadowing to when Jensen would get down on his knees with those reddened lips and do a different kind of sucking and thrusting. Kisses that bit and then laved the bite mark, soothed whines and whimpers and kept Jensen from getting too loud (because jesus fucking christ, the guy was a screamer), kisses that sucked at skin and left marks that Roque and Pooch and even Clay would poke fun at the next morning. Kisses that moved away from the mouth to the nipples (okay, yeah, Cougar had really sensitive nipples, so sue him), to thighs, to knees, to fingers, to other  _much_  more sensitive places.

Of course there were simple affirmation kisses, kisses where Jensen would do something adorably dorky and Cougar would tilt Jensen’s head up and kiss him. Those kisses were always slow and sweet, not so much exploratory as confirmation. Cougar liked those kisses because he found it difficult to say the words that Jensen could spew forth so easily, and those kisses - more than any other kind - meant ‘I love you’ in such an obvious but silent way that Jensen couldn’t miss the message at all. Those kisses weren’t always solely initiated by Cougar, of course; there were times when Cougar would be oiling his gun, or would look up, and Jensen was giving him the same fond look, and then they’d be kissing, warmth spreading through Cougar’s throat and chest.

There were revved up kisses - Cougar didn’t know how else to describe them. Normally, it was Jensen initiating them, but Cougar could remember quite a few times where Jensen would do something particularly clever or deadly, build a particularly huge explosion with just scraps, and it didn’t matter that they were in the field (or in the range, which is where Jensen normally initiated them - the man liked watching Cougar shoot, that was for sure) - Cougar would grab Jensen’s chin and yank their lips together, and the kiss would be a combination of life-affirmation and hot and dirty, thick and rough, Cougar growling into the kiss, their blood pumping fast and dangerous. 

Not only that, but there were possessive kisses - Jensen did these more often than Cougar (c’mon, could Cougar help the fact that he was so smoking that people flocked around him when he was in a bar?) but Jensen had danced with enough men and women to get Cougar’s blood boiling. Those kisses were nothing more than vertical sex, fingers gripped tight in clothing, stars exploding at the backs of Cougar’s eyes, and the kiss being so  _dominating_ , so utterly  _thorough_ , that Cougar could do nothing but melt into the embrace, tilt his head back in submission, even rut against Jensen’s thigh. (And yes, he’d admit it in the privacy of his own mind, he’d come once or twice [or three times] just from those kisses alone.)

But Cougar’s all-time favorite kisses were the sleepy-slow ones in the morning, and yeah, Jensen always grumbled about morning breath, and by the time Cougar woke up he’d be slick with sweat because Jensen was a fucking furnace - but there was nothing,  _nothing_ , more amazing than turning in Jensen’s octopus arms and kissing along the line of Jensen’s jaw until he reached the corner of Jensen’s mouth. Then he’d gently pry open Jensen’s mouth with his tongue, sucking and nibbling, until Jensen was making happy-Jensen noises, kissing back even before he was all the way awake. The first time Cougar had done it, he’d been worried - he’d woken up and saw the late afternoon sun pooling over the bed, making Jensen’s skin glow, lightening his lashes and hair to spun gold, and Cougar had originally intended to just kiss once. (Obviously, he hadn’t been able to keep to that.) Jensen, though, hadn’t minded, and Cougar always waited for Jensen to open sleep-bleary eyes before deepening the kiss into something more sexual, something that could lead somewhere else.

But yeah, if Cougar talked, he’d write damned soliloquies to the varied kisses Jensen and he shared.

Licking his lips, he leaned up to Jensen’s mouth and began to wake Jensen up the best way he knew how.


	6. Mornings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _6\. Wearing each others’ clothes_ , **M**

“I would if I could, yaknow? But I can’t, so you’re just gonna have to poke fun at Cougar and leave me be.”

Cougar paused outside the kitchen, blearily trying to make sense of the tail-end of the conversation he’d just heard, scratching as his stomach as he tried to wake up.

“I’m just saying, I can’t wait for the day you stumble in down here before your coffee looking like a teenybopper in too-tight clothing.” Pooch was chuckling, and there was other movement in the kitchen - someone else there, as well.

Well, coffee was in the kitchen. Ergo, Cougar was going into the kitchen even if it might be advantageous to hang back and get a handle on the conversation.

Pushing open the swinging door, Cougar padded in on bare feet, making a beeline for the coffeemaker. Only once he’d downed the first three gulps did he realize the entire kitchen was silent.

He turned around to glower at them - Pooch and Clay and Jensen - and noticed that of the three, Pooch and Clay were desperately trying not to snigger, and Jensen looked completely starstruck as well as thoroughly aroused. Cougar stared at them a long moment before realizing that Jensen’s eyes weren’t on Cougar, per se - they were on Cougar’s chest.

Where, emblazoned in white letters, the words “sarcasm loading” sat above a computer progress bar.

Huh. Cougar scratched at his jaw, realizing that the shirt was a bit big on him, falling low on his thighs, the neck and shoulders splayed out over Cougar’s narrower shoulders. The shirt smelled of Jensen, and it was comforting.

“He always ends up wearing your shit, Jensen!” Pooch finally choked out, and then he and Clay were laughing their heads off like hyenas.

Jensen shook himself out of his trance and folded his arms huffily. “He doesn’t mind. Do you, Cougs? You like my geeky humor. And my shirts look damn good on him.”

Cougar smiled fondly at Jensen. The other Losers ribbed them endlessly, teasing them about being soppy and teenage girls in disguise, and while Cougar was younger than Jensen, the jabs got to Jensen more than Cougar. Possibly because Cougar never felt the need to prove his or Jensen’s masculinity, while Jensen would get offended on Cougar’s behalf and retaliate. Obviously, Clay or Pooch had mentioned something about the fact that Cougar did wander around the house in nothing but a pair of boxers and one of Jensen’s vividly eye-catching t-shirts until he fully woke up and showered.

Still, there was a surefire way to show Jensen that he didn’t care one way or the other.

Exiting the room - ignoring the laughs and jibes - Cougar made his way up to his and Jensen’s shared room. There, he picked up the one article of clothing that Jensen could fit, put it on, and made his way back downstairs.

Jensen was squirming in his seat, denying that he saw Cougar as a woman or the girl in the relationship, and Clay had gotten up to start washing the dishes. Ignoring Pooch and Clay, Cougar sauntered over to Jensen, still clutching his coffee mug, and straddled the taller man’s thighs.

“Cougs?” Jensen asked.

Reaching up to his head, to the cowboy hat Cougar had just put on for this express reason, Cougar took his hat off and dropped it on top of Jensen’s head.

The entire kitchen went absolutely silent.

Cougar leaned down and pressed a soft, sweet kiss against the corner of Jensen’s stunned mouth. “Your clothes mean I am yours. My hat means you are mine. Si?”

Jensen nodded dumbly.

Content - and still hungry, and still needing his caffeine fix - Cougar patted Jensen’s cheek and stood up, moving to the fridge.

And if he covertly eyed the hot picture Jensen made, in nothing but a tight undershirt and sweats and that cowboy hat perched on top of his spikes, eyes wide and stunned and lust-filled, well. Who could blame him? He had the hottest boyfriend he could hope for and he wouldn’t trade him for the world.


	7. Not Iron Man

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _7\. Cosplaying_ , **G**

“The outfit I picked out for you is perfect! Come on, Cougs, please? Please? Please please please please?”

Cougar shoved Jensen’s face out of his own and lifted his book higher. “I agreed to come. I did not agree to dress up.”

Jensen slumped down onto the kitchen chair opposite Cougar and gave him puppy dog eyes. “C’mon, Cougs, you already are going to get me back for this, can’t you at least consider it? It’d be so awesome!”

Cougar raised an eyebrow at Jensen. After a long moment, Jensen sighed and slunk off.

Their downtime this time coincided with a comic-con of some kind - Cougar had only Jensen’s excited rambles to go on, as he’d never been to one before - and Jensen had begged on his hands and knees and agreed to do chores until the end of world if Cougar would accompany him in boyfriend capacity. Considering that Cougar could refuse little of Jensen when he had his puppy dog eyes on, and Cougar was curious about what Jensen did on his downtime as this was the first time they actually had more than two or three days off, he’d said yes.

And while he wasn’t the comic geek that Jensen was, he’d read his fair share of Batman, X-Men, and Superman. Jensen wanted him to go as Iron Man, since Jensen was going as Captain America.

Jensen made a sweet-ass Captain America. Literally. The costume he half-bought, half-designed, hugged his ass and showed off his ripped body. And Cougar had to admit he really looked the part.

But Cougar didn’t want to be Iron Man, and, well, he kinda wanted to surprise Jensen himself. Besides, he knew Jensen’s various comic-book crushes. What he had would eventually pay off, if he could keep Jensen off his back.

The day of the con, Jensen was bouncing around excitedly, though he kept making sad eyes at Cougar and hinting that the Iron Man costume would fit Cougar perfectly, and Cougar didn’t even need to wear it all, just part of it. Finally, laughing, Cougar shooed Jensen out of the house, thinking wistfully that it was a shame the shield Jensen had strapped to his back was low enough to cover those tight cheeks.

“I’ll meet you,” Cougar had assured Jensen. “Waiting for Pooch. Bringing me something.”

It had taken Jensen a while to give in and go to the con ahead of Cougar. Only five minutes after Jensen had walked out, there was a knock on their apartment door and without waiting for Cougar to open the door, Pooch walked in. “Jesus, took him a while to go!” he grumbled. “I’ve been waiting outside for thirty fucking minutes, Cougs.”

Cougar shrugged one shoulder negligently.

“Well, here you go,” Pooch grumbled. “If I needed any more proof that you two were gone over each other…” Muttering under his breath, Pooch strapped the bulky armbands on Cougar’s forearms and made sure the trigger was in the center of his palm. “It isn’t sharp, of course - you’re going to be around idiot teens, no need to actually be equipped to do some damage. Do you need anything else?”

Cougar smiled and shook his head. The plus side about his costume was that it wasn’t anything in particular at all - and that suited the personality of the person he was cosplaying as, as well. He hoped Jensen would appreciate the realistic-looking weapons, as that was really the only thing that set him apart as this person instead of himself. Luckily, when he’d described it to Pooch, Pooch had made something very basic to cover it.

All in all, he had on his cowboy boots, jeans, and a white undershirt. Now, he pulled on a plaid flannel shirt over his head and grabbed a fake cigar - awkwardly, because these weapons really did hamper his movements - before settling his cowboy hat on his head.

In the parking lot outside the con, he texted Jensen and then lounged by the doors, waiting. People streamed by, but Jensen had to bring out Cougar’s badge, and so he slid his hands into his pockets and ducked his head down.

“Cougs?”

Cougar looked up to see Jensen, cowl hanging down his back, shield still strapped against his back, with his groin very nicely outlined indeed. Cougar’s mouth twitched into a smile, especially when Jensen furrowed his brow and gestured at the fake cigar. “What’s that, Cougs?”

“Part of my costume,” Cougar said simply, pushing off the door and taking his badge from Jensen’s fingers.

“Costume?”

Smirking, Cougar thumbed the triggers on each of the armbands and felt the springs release, and with a scraping, metallic sound, three metal ‘blades’ popped out of each (loose) sleeve, over his knuckles.

Jensen’s eyes popped.

“This works, for me,” Cougar said simply, and, teasing, he pressed the six claws against Jensen’s chest - since they were dull, they wouldn’t hurt - and stepped forward to push the claws back in. Pooch had built the claws to release, but to put them back he’d have to physically click them back into place so the springs would catch.

“Fuck,” Jensen breathed, eyes wide. “You’re Wolverine.”

“Si,” Cougar murmured, smiling.

Jensen licked his lips, looking over the casual wear, looking at Cougar’s wrists, just taking in Cougar entirely, and then he grinned, bright and boyish and so, so happy. “That’s awesome! That’s amazing! C’mon, we gotta show you off! Fuck, did Pooch make those for you? They’re fucking awesome!”

Laughing, Cougar trailed in after Jensen, and while he may not normally enjoy going to things like this, seeing Jensen smile like that (and, obviously, seeing Jensen’s body highlighted like that) was more than worth it.


	8. Cougar Is A Conscientious Shopper

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _8\. Shopping_ , **G**

For all that Jensen knew he was irritating, overly hyper, and more than a little random, he still was a better shopper than Cougar.

As he trailed behind Cougar in the grocery store, he kept up a steady line of complaints. Cougar, of course, ignored him completely. Then again, he pulled this any time Cougar walked into a store, so Cougar had gotten a lot of practice ignoring him.

It was just - Cougar took so freaking long in the store! Everything was checked over twice, there was a list that needed to be crossed off as each item was added in, no spur-of-the-moment purchases, and Cougar always looked at all other options, rarely picking the brand name and instead looking for the cheapest or the healthiest or, hell, even just the largest amount for the same price as the brand name. Jensen, Jensen walked in with an idea of what was needed, headed straight for it, picked it up, picked up a few other miscellaneous items along the way, and got out.

“Cooooooougs,” he whined, putting his forehead against the back of Cougar’s shoulder and leaning heavily against the shorter man. “C’mon, we could be doing a billion other things right now! Fun things! Amazing things! Hell, we could even be doing not-amazing-things, but we wouldn’t be here in the store!”

Cougar chuckled but said nothing at all. A few minutes later, he finally put a box of healthy raisin bran into the shopping cart.

Pouting, Jensen unwound himself from Cougar’s body and scowled at the floor. “You’re so mean to me,” he mumbled.

“You need to learn patience,” Cougar replied serenely.

Jensen stuck out his tongue at the other man’s back.

“I saw that,” Cougar called out as he turned the corner with the shopping cart.

Jensen raised his eyes up to the ceiling for an appeal of patience and ended up blinding himself by the fluorescent lights.

He hated shopping.


	9. Monopoly to the Death

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _9\. Hanging Out With Friends_ , **G**

Sometimes, you have to look for the silver lining in things. Yeah, Jensen was on bed rest, Roque’s arm was shot to hell and he was high on painkillers, and Clay probably wouldn’t be able to walk for at least another two weeks. While Pooch and Cougar had gotten off relatively easy, that didn’t change that they were all strung out, worn out, and on hair-triggers. Roque kept jerking awake every time someone walked by the hospital room, Jensen flinched every time someone reached out to touch him on the side that he was temporarily blind, and Clay growled and snapped and made a big production out of the littlest things.

So it made sense that Pooch and Cougar argued persuasively enough (Pooch argued; Cougar gave big, soft, wet eyes and nurses caved) to have the three other Losers let out and hustled back to their on-site housing. Normally speaking, they were only in it whenever they’d particularly screwed up; if they were on base, they had leave, and if they had leave, they were gone to their own apartments or vacations or whatever the hell they had planned. Still, it was a homey enough place, and Jensen had two or three game consoles scattered about, Roque’s room had accumulated paperbacks more than you would expect, Pooch’s DVD collection had a smattering of Clay’s movies mixed in, and Cougar’s kitchen was exactly how he had Jensen’s arranged at their shared apartment.

Of course, the Losers hung out well enough in the field, when people were shooting at them. They were a team, after all, and they enjoyed one another’s presence. Hell, when they had a short downtime period or were stuck on base because of one indiscretion or the other, they had fun.

Hanging out with one another when three of them were patients and the other two had no patience with whiny patients?

Yeah, not a recipe for fun.

For one thing, Roque was to regularly take painkillers, but often put them off to the last minute, until the pain was too bad to do anything but swallow the pills. Jensen didn’t take kindly to bed rest, and spent his day either trying to escape from his bed or trying to escape from the couch, and failing miserably at both tasks. And Clay was the biggest whiner out of all of them, complaining that it was too cold or too hot, that he was hungry or that he was thirsty, that he wanted to watch his soaps in peace or that everyone was avoiding him.

In the end, Pooch and Cougar got together and planned in secret to build an activity that would keep the three invalids occupied while keeping the two non-invalids sane. Poker was suggested, but it was too easy for Cougar to cheat and Pooch was pretty good at cheating, and with Roque high from painkillers there was no guarantee that he would understand the game.

Game after game was suggested and discarded, and Pooch and Cougar walked the entire house at three in the morning, trying to find something that could work as a game. It was Pooch who found, stuffed in the attic under a pile of old computer parts, a battered monopoly game.

Cougar looked at Pooch, Pooch looked at Cougar, and they shrugged. Better than Go Fish or Charades.

The next morning, they find out that of the five of them, Roque and Jensen have never played Monopoly. With Jensen stretched out on the couch, Roque glaring anytime Pooch suggests he take his painkillers before the pain gets any worse, and Clay sighing and whining like a teenager about how long it takes to explain the rules, Cougar almost reconsiders the game. But he needs something to keep everyone occupied instead of at one another’s throat, so he picks up the dog piece and picks up the die.

Somehow, at the end of it all, Jensen’s bitching about how the red properties were his, dammit, he called them, and fucking Pooch was a fucking betrayer and traitor, and Clay’s sitting smug and pretty on the largest pile of money and offering to buy out Pooch’s property, Roque is frustrated because mid-game he finally took his damn pills and then proceeded to buy random properties that did nothing in the long-term to better his position, and Cougar’s got Boardwalk and Park Place and the two dark purple properties to his name, built up to the highest. They’re too loud, it’s getting dark, and Jensen’s complaining that he’d have won if Pooch hadn’t snatched up the last red property Jensen had needed to complete the set. Clay’s crowing over his almost inevitable win at this point, Roque keeps ending up in jail, Pooch keeps landing on Clay’s hotels, and Cougar has to admit that while they might not be playing Monopoly the way it was meant to be played, they certainly are having a hell of a lot more fun.


	10. Here, Kitty, Kitty, Kitty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _10\. With animal ears_ , **G**

 

“It’s not funny,” Cougar growled under his breath, cheeks dusted pink with embarrassment.

Sitting next to the hospital bed, Pooch ran out of air and was making high-pitched squeaks. On Cougar’s other side, Clay was still trying to smother a smile.

“You gotta admit, Cougs,” Roque said, smirking, “you look damned cute.”

Cougar snarled at them just as Jensen bounced into the room, talking a mile a minute about the tech he’d hacked and the strange biomutation that should be reversible given that they got the antidote in time and it had been really complicated and the science was beyond him but otherwise he was pretty confident that within a few days they’d be able to get rid of it -

“Hey,” Jensen said, stopping, looking over the other Losers and Cougar fuming on the bed. “Is something up?”

“We were just on our way out, Jay, but you can keep Cougs company right?” Roque snickered, and left with Pooch still gasping for breath and Clay fighting valiantly to keep from sniggering.

When the door closed behind them, Jensen turned to Cougar and he looked so genuinely baffled that Cougar felt himself relenting. Slightly.

Shaking his head, Jensen dragged the chair Pooch had been in up to the bed’s side and sat back in it, putting his heels on the edge of Cougar’s hospital bed. “Weirdos,” he muttered under his breath. He cleared his throat and looked at Cougar, and his voice softened ever so slightly. “You okay, Cougs? You must be freaked the hell out. And I don’t think I ever said thank you, you know. For taking the hit for me. But you shoulda just let that syringe hit me.”

“Didn’t know what it would do,” Cougar muttered, sinking lower against the bed and scowling at the sheets.

There was movement and Jensen’s feet slid off the bed. Moments later, Cougar could feel the pads of Jensen’s fingers against his upper shoulder. “Is it alright to touch?” Jensen asked quietly.

And while, quite frankly, the idea of being part animal scared Cougar to death, and it was more than a little freaky that his ears were now up on the side of his head in line with his temples instead of his eyes and nose, he knew Jensen didn’t mean any harm. So he let out a long sigh and tipped his chin against his chest, a subtle invite for Jensen’s fingers to explore further.

Jensen’s hand moved over Cougar’s shoulder to stroke the nape of Cougar’s neck, massaging lightly at the coiled tension. “I don’t think they meant to upset you,” Jensen murmured, running his nails lightly over the exposed skin before carding his fingers through Cougar’s long hair. “You’re really - really beautiful with those ears.”

Cougar twisted his head to glower at Jensen. “Beautiful  _is just as bad_  as cute.  _Worse_.”

“Well.” Jensen swallowed and dropped his gaze. “I just - ” He stopped, made a helpless gesture, and let his hand fall down into his lap.

And yeah, Cougar got that Jensen hadn’t been saying it out of spite, but he had his pride to consider, not to mention the fact that Cougar really didn’t like the ears, want the ears, and was just thrown by everything. With a soft sigh - because he was a fool who couldn’t resist Jensen and his ridiculous puppy eyes - he turned away and closed his eyes. “Lo siento,” he murmured. “I am - not myself. Obviously.”

For a moment, there was nothing but the steady hum of the background noise that came with all hospitals. Then, Jensen shifted and hesitant fingers pressed against Cougar’s palm. “It’ll be fixed. It will be reversed.”

Letting out his breath in a long sigh, Cougar slumped over against Jensen’s chest and breathed in deeply, ignoring the strange feel of Jensen’s shirt against his super-sensitive kitten ears.

“Can I scritch them?”

“What? Jensen - ” Cougar roused himself, indignant, and then sighed. No one was around to see them, and he trusted Jensen. With a sigh, he subsided and growled, “Quickly.”

And if it felt absolutely amazing, and Jensen scratched at them longer than normal, and a soft growl vibrated in the back of Cougar’s throat that was most definitely not a purr, thank you - well, it was only Jensen, and only for Jensen to witness.


	11. Nothing Jensen Wouldn't Do for His Niece

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _11\. Wearing kigurumis_ (which I had to google because I had no idea what it was, **G**

Jensen stared down at the cloth on his bed. “Em?” he called, drawing the syllable out as he turned away and poked his head out of the guest room of his sister’s house.

“Yes?” she called from the kitchen.

“There’s a giant dog costume on my bed.”

“Don’t worry, Cougar has one too!”

That wasn’t reassuring in the least. Frowning, he blinked down at what was essentially footie pajamas with hoods that depicted animal heads - oh motherboard in the sky, there was a  _tail_ , too - and wondered why it was on his bed. And why Cougar had one too.

He turned to the guest bathroom and knocked on the door. “Cougs? Cougs, you in there? There’s this fu-freaking strange costume on my…”

Cougar opened the door with a flat, unamused look. Jensen stared in shock at the calico cat costume, pointed ears, and kitten tail.

“You’re… a  _cat_!”

Cougar raised both his eyebrows so slowly that it took Jensen a moment to realize they were moving at all. “Really? Hadn’t noticed,” he replied.

“Why… Cougar,  _what’s going on_?!”

With a huff, Cougar moved past him and glowered at the mittens that Jensen had failed to notice on their night-table. “Your niece is turning eight today.”

“I know that, I just went out and got all the food supplies - “

Jensen stopped, sudden, crushing terror forcing an epiphany on him. Little Jenna. Loved animals. Wanted a dress-up party. Cougar and Jensen had agreed to be chaperones.

“Fuck,” he said eloquently.

Cougar grunted in commiseration and folded his arms. “Go. Change.”

Grumbling, Jensen dragged the dog costume into the bathroom and awkwardly figured out back-zippers and then stared at himself in the mirror mournfully.

After five minutes, Cougar opened the door and grabbed him by his ear.

“I’m a black ops soldier, Cougs,” Jensen mumbled.

“Si,” Cougar replied, dragging him down the stairs.

“I’ve killed people before, Cougar.”

“Si.”

Emily took one look at them and burst out laughing. Then again, she had a cutsey mouse costume, not a floppy dog’s head. Or a -

Jensen paused, and looked at Cougar, looking past the costume to the adorable costume, multicolored and complimenting Cougar’s skin tone nicely, with some shades of black thrown in. With the hood hanging down, Cougar actually looked kinda… hot.

“This isn’t good. I didn’t need to learn I have new kinks at this age,” Jensen said distractedly.

“Jake Jensen!” Emily shouted, indignant.

“What! I can’t help I have a hot boyfriend who can pull off a fu- _freaking_  cat costume!”

Cougar scowled at the both of them.

Emily leveled the mixing spoon at Jensen. “Keep your hands to yourself, horndog,” she warned. “You’ve got fifteen other eight-year-old girls to herd.”


	12. Best $11 Wasted, Ever

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _12\. Making out_ , **M**

It was something that Jensen never took for granted. Not that he’d tell Cougar, because Cougar would assume it was for one reason (insecurity, and yes, Jensen was pretty insecure, but that wasn’t the reason this time) when it wasn’t.

It was because it was so rare.

Not that affection was rare - it seemed like they were always touching, always within one another’s orbit, small gestures like saving the last piece of fried chicken, doing the other’s laundry, making the other coffee. All these, and a million other ways, Jensen knew Cougar loved him and wanted to be with him.

But when it came down to it, they were on limited time and generally speaking, if they had free time without having to worry about being interrupted, they were fucking, not making out.

No, making out was the soft slide of lips against lips (unless Jensen’s were chapped again, since he couldn’t stop gnawing on them when he was hacking); it was the pressure of slick tongues against gums, tasting the other deep in the recesses of their mouth.

It was having Cougar straddle Jensen’s lap, chest to chest, Jensen’s hands resting on Cougar’s waist and Cougar’s hands curled around Jensen’s neck and shoulder. It was kissing and affection in this one small way that was so difficult to get, normally.

So when they had enough downtime to actually do things beyond drive over to Jensen’s apartment and make use of every flat surface once before having to go back to base, Jensen begged and pleaded and promised ridiculous things to have Cougar go with him to the movie theater. Because, well, not even Cougar was brazen enough to do anything overtly sexual in a movie theater, and Jensen could indulge in his (yeah, he knew, pretty sentimental and squishy) vice to his heart’s content.

They ended up in some bad horror flick in the early afternoon, barely anyone else in the theater, and pretty much from the get-go, Jensen was nipping and mouthing along the line of Cougar’s neck, moving his lips along the line of Cougar’s jaw, stopping to press kisses at the corner of Cougar’s mouth, before sucking Cougar’s lower lip into his mouth.

Cougar made a pleased hum in the back of his throat and reached up to curl fingers against the nape of Jensen’s back and twist Jensen’s head so their faces could slot together better. Jensen let himself bask in the feel of stubble and Cougar’s beard against his own face, the taste of Cougar’s mouth (hints of butter, of salt, of that musk that was just Cougar and nothing else), the feel of that tongue worming into Jensen’s own mouth…

With a deeper moan, Cougar ran a hand down Jensen’s chest, and Jensen found one of his hands had crept up Cougar’s neck to card through his hair and scrape at his scalp. The other hand rested over Cougar’s ribs, fingers rubbing back and forth.

Cougar let out a little whimper and nipped at Jensen’s lips. “We could,” Cougar murmured, licking his way into Jensen’s mouth again and then pulling back to pant for air. “We could leave.”

“Nah,” Jensen breathed, suckling a hickey against the column of Cougar’s throat. “This is more exciting.”

Cougar didn’t protest further, instead leaned back and let Jensen mouth over his exposed throat and face, let Jensen unbutton the first few buttons to nip and bite at Cougar’s collarbones - but Jensen kept his hands above the waist, and as much as he moved his mouth over all of Cougar’s skin he could reach, he always returned to those kiss-swollen lips, moaning into Cougar’s mouth.

And if it had the added benefit of making Cougar so horny that by the time they got back to the apartment he bent Jensen over the back of the couch and fucked him stupid, well.

Jensen wasn’t complaning.


	13. Mint Chocolate Chip Cone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _13\. Eating ice cream_ , **T**

Generally speaking, Jensen loved ice cream. Loved the biting cold, the sugar rush, the myriad flavors. He specifically enjoyed popsicles and ice cream bars, sundaes and splits.

He was learning a new appreciation for ice cream cones, though.

They were on downtime, spending the afternoon with Jenna while Emily was still at work, and Jenna had begged and begged to go to the local ice cream store. Not that Jenna had needed to beg Jensen all that much - he was always a pushover for her, and the little minx knew it. No, her begging had been aimed at Cougar, because of the two of them Cougar was the one who would have to give in and agree before they could go.

Either she had been particularly effective, or Cougar had been in the mood himself, because Cougar had agreed after minimal pouting. Now, Cougar had a small cup of chocolate ice cream with peanut butter chunks, Jenna had finished off the tiny cone Cougar had bought her (just barely; she never was as hungry as she thought she was) and was running around on the playground, and Jensen sat across from Cougar with his own mint chocolate chip cone, licking absently up and down the melting sides.

It was more self-preservation than actual awareness that had him suddenly turning to look at Cougar, who was staring at him with a fixed look. It unnerved Jensen, and he pulled his tongue away from his fingers and wrist (because Jenna was not the only Jensen in the family who thought they could finish something before it made a god-awful melted mess) to say uncertainly, “Cougs? You okay, buddy?”

“Stop that,” Cougar growled, eyes dark.

Jensen blinked at Cougar for a few moments, trying to process what was said and what it could possibly be referring to. “Stop… what? I haven’t even said anything all afternoon!”

Cougar swallowed roughly and glowered at Jensen.

For another few moments, Jensen just stared at Cougar. Because the only explanation for Cougar’s prickly behavior was, frankly, so ludicrous that Jensen didn’t entertain the thought at first. It was always Jensen who couldn’t control himself, Jensen who thought inappropriate thoughts, Jensen who acted on said inappropriate thoughts.

But there really could only be one reason why Cougar was telling him to stop eating his ice cream. Or rather, stop following the drips and lines of melted green with his tongue.

“You know, when Em comes home,” Jensen said slowly, spreading his lips wide and then sucking lightly at the top of his cone, making Cougar do an odd whimper-growl sound that made Jensen go white-hot, “she’s gonna take Jenna to her karate lessons. And we’ll have the house to ourselves for two whole hours, because they’re doing the shopping, too. I bet,” he stopped again, curling his tongue around the ice cream and Cougar groaned deep in his throat, “I bet I can keep you from coming for at least thirty minutes.”

Cougar was panting now, eyes narrowed and a darker, rosy flush dusting across his cheeks and the back of his neck. “You,” he said in a gravel-deep voice, rough with lust, “are playing with fire.”

“Best kind of playing,” Jensen replied slyly as Jenna came running back to their table.


	14. Bar Fight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _14\. Genderswapped_ , **T**

Jaelynn Jensen smirked into her beer as another guy began to approach their table. Cougar didn’t look up, though Jensen didn’t doubt that she was aware of the man’s approach. Cougar and Jensen, the only girls on the team, stuck together not only because they were fucking, but because they were a good team. Cougar needed to let off some steam - that last mission had been a doozy - and Jensen loved a good bar fight, especially against a dumbass bastard like the one that strutted up as if he was god’s gift to women.

“Hey, baby, haven’t seen you around here before,” he said, with a charming smile and practically oozing sex appeal. It probably worked for him before - because damn, he was hot, rich skin and bouncing curls and warm chestnut eyes. Jensen would so totally do him.

Except, of course, she was a bit too muscled, a bit too masculine, and too dorky to ever get a guy’s attention like his. Not like Cougar, with lush curves and sinuous lines and a petite body that was barely taller than her favorite rifle was long. No, Cougar got all the men in the room to stare at her by virtue of walking in the front door. Sometimes Jensen resented it - other times, like now, she could only shake her head in pity for the poor idiot who was trying to get Cougar’s attention.

As it was, Cougar didn’t even look up, simply downed her tequila shot and ignored the guy. Of course the guy wasn’t going to graciously back off - no, he leaned forward, hands over-friendly, up and in Cougar’s personal space. “Baby, don’t be like that,” he cooed, and Jensen decided to save him further embarrassment.

“She’s not your baby, sweetie pie. And you’re just a bit too handsy. Back off.”

Because it was always nice to give the guys fair warning. No one ever listed to Jensen, but hey, she gave them fair warning.

“Bitch, was I talking to you?”

At that, Cougar turned, one hand going out quicksilver-fast, to grip at his wrist. He gasped and winced, then tried to mask his face, but Cougar’s slim wrists and fine-boned hands were strong. “What did you call my friend?”

“What the hell’s your problem?” the guy snarled, trying to jerk his hand away. His friends, noticing that there was trouble, began to stand up.

“I try to warn them. Don’t I try to warn them, Cougs?” Jensen sighed dramatically and stood up, tipped her head back and swallowed the last of her beer.

Cougar smiled with just her eyes, little crinkles appearing. Yeah, Cougar’s blood was up, and after the fight they’d go back to Cougar’s tiny apartment, rattle the doors and the bed and make the neighbors pound on the walls. Rough sex was the best sex, sometimes.

With a huge, heaving sigh, Jensen put down her bottle and pivoted on her heel, driving her fist into the guy’s nose.

He went down like a pile of bricks and Jensen bared her teeth in a smile as his friends stared at her in shock and then ran at her. From beside her, Cougar finished off her drink and then twisted, lithe muscle and controlled power plowing into the first guy’s gut.

Later, bruised and scratched and laughing like hyenas after getting thrown out of the bar, Jensen grabbed Cougar’s shoulders and kissed her, hard and fast and desperate, needy and clingy and possessive, and Cougar let out one of those soft whimpers that had Jensen’s panties wet within seconds.

They were interrupted before they could reach the public indecency part of their make-out session by someone clearing his throat.

Jensen turned to see Clay and Roque standing there, arms folded and glowering at the two of them.

“Corporal Jaelynn Jensen. Sergeant Carmen Alvarez. Care to explain this mess?”

The two women looked at one another and grinned, sharp and bright like the edge of knives.


	15. Looking For A Place to Lay My Head

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _15\. In a different clothing style_ (which, because I am not drawing, will end up being a wild west AU. Forgive historical inaccuracies), **M**

Carlos Alvarez is well aware of his unusual place here in this tiny town. One of the only Hispanics here, and he’s the Sheriff - mostly because, out of everyone who owns a gun (as well as those who own three or more) he shoots the best, the fastest, and the most accurate. He protects this town.

The interloper is with three other men, and he stirs feelings in Cougar that should be shameful, sinful, but feel too darkly attractive to ignore. The man wears a white cuffed shirt, striped with pink, and a deep maroon vest that molds over chest and torso, hugging every curve, chest framed by suspenders. Black trousers tuck into knee-high black boots, and a black neckerchief only emphasizes the utter paleness of the man’s skin. Jensen, he calls himself. “Just passing through,” he says, and Carlos has to admit the men came to his office first, declaring themselves, before going anywhere else. They get points for that, of course, but the town doesn’t call Carlos ‘the Cougar’ for nothing. He is utterly vicious and utterly silent, and he protects this tiny town from the many bandits that roam the sprawl of the West. And these three men might be too small to aptly be termed a posse, but they could be a harbinger for something as bad.

Still, as he sits in the saloon at the end of the day, his duster draped over the back of his chair, calf-high boots dusty from the day, as are the bottoms of his black trousers, tanned vest unbuttoned to show the crisp white shirt underneath, a small shot of tequila in his hand and the bottle next to his elbow, account book with his tightly cramped spidery writing filling the pages, he looks over at the blond-haired man, with the larger smile and larger laugh, joking and laughing easily, respecting Hester which is more than most men in this town can do. His companions, one older man dressed in an impeccable suit and another with a scar through his right eye, both seem exasperated with Jensen’s behavior as well as fond. That doesn’t keep them from being trouble, but the fondness is honest affection, and it makes Carlos’ mind rest easier.

Jensen notices him. Of course he does - Jensen is obviously sharp and markedly perceptive, for all that he plays the fool. He murmurs something to his companions, who turn to glance at Carlos - who tips his hat to them - and then gets up to make his way to Carlos’ table.

“The bartender tells me they call you Cougar.”

“Si,” Carlos responds, because he isn’t much of a talker and beyond that, there are days when Cougar is more his name than the name given to him at birth.

Jensen doesn’t seem to mind the lack of talk on Carlos’ part. Instead, he chatters on, “So, my friends and I are really looking for somewhere nice to stay. Well, nice being relative - as you can see by his suit, Clay’s used to higher things in life, but, well, he objected to his partner beating Roque there and let’s just say I’m also trying to leave behind me disgruntled partners. We’d like to settle here. Maybe help you out - Clay’s good with guns, and Roque used to work as a blacksmith. Also good with knives. And I’m a tinkerer.”

Carlos leans back in his chair, hat tilting down, as he eyes the two over there and then Jensen. He could use more guns on his side - he had the townsfolk, but they had jobs and families, and needed protecting - but he didn’t want to invite trouble in to his town. “People are after you?”

Jensen winces a bit and waves his hand. “Not really? Not anymore, at least. We’ve pretty much knocked them off our tail. I mean, there’s the chance that they might show up looking, but mostly not?”

And Carlos should say no. He should send them out of his town, not take the chance that something bigger and rougher would come down the road hunting these men. But Jensen’s smile is wide and easy, and finally Carlos lets out a long sigh and rubs the back of his neck. “Trial period only,” he states.

Jensen grins like a fool and pours them both shots. Apparently, either the other two could hear or from Jensen’s actions they figured out, because they both relaxed and turned to their own meals. Later in the evening, they stumble out, and Carlos isn’t drunk the way they are, but he’s definitely tipsy when he lets Jensen grab his shoulders at the back of the saloon, lets the other man lower lips to his, and Carlos can remember his Catholic mother, his upbringing, the tolerance in the West for such preferences, but everything in him is melting and when Jensen whimpers and whispers against Carlos’s lips desperately, “Is there a room? A bed? Supplies? Somewhere we can be in private?” Carlos finds himself relenting, taking Jensen back to the sheriff office and up the back stairs to the small rooms on the second floor.

In the morning, he wakes up to see the dawn sunlight speckling Jensen’s naked broad back (Jake, call me Jake) and he cannot find it in himself to regret what happened last night.

Jake Jensen blinks open pure blue eyes and smiles, and it quickly becomes apparent that Jensen doesn’t regret it, either.


	16. Memories Like Sunrises

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _16\. During their morning rituals_ , **T**

For the most part, their morning rituals were defined by their occupation. Up early, doing their PT, grabbing nutrition before hurtling off to a mission or training. Still, they had their little quirks - Cougar was up before the sun, and he’d pad downstairs and start the coffee for their unit before clambering back into bed. There, he’d wait, normally reading a book, until sunrise had Jensen stirring and grumbling under his breath. Sun streaming through the window always woke Jensen, and with unintelligible noises Jensen would stumble into the bathroom to brush his teeth and get ready.

Once he was out, Cougar would shove him gently towards the stairs that would take Jensen down to where the coffee was still hot. Cougar would go into the bathroom and complete his own ablutions, neatening the bathroom as he did so. (Jensen never cared if the bathroom was in a state of disarray, and Cougar absolutely hated when it was - eventually, Cougar had come to accept that in the morning Jensen was too out of it to actually clean, and Jensen had conceded to making certain it was neatened before they went to bed that night. It worked for them.)

When Cougar was done, he’d wander downstairs. By then, Jensen would be coherent enough to actually speak, though his chatter was much slowed down. A few random facts, confirmations of pre-op procedures if they were getting ready for a mission, and that was it. Morning was the only time Jensen came close to Cougar’s utter silence.

They’d go their separate ways if they had training or meetings or tests to do, or head out together to get ready to deploy.

When they were in downtime, though, Cougar still got up before the sun. Jensen still woke with the sun’s rays. Cougar still got the coffee going  before Jensen got up, and Jensen was still slow and moderately quiet.

But when Jensen would begin to stir, Cougar would close his book and lean down to kiss Jensen’s sleep-soft lips. Jensen would wake up with a hum, and curl around Cougar. They’d lie there an extra minute or ten, just soft touching - not sexual, just sensual. Just heat and warmth and love between them, and then Jensen would press a kiss to Cougar’s collarbone before getting up. And when Cougar would come out of the bathroom, Jensen would have chocolate chip pancakes on the griddle, and they’d sit in the kitchen in the boxers, or naked, draped on one another, until they were full.

Later, they’d clean, or go to the nearby range to keep their skills sharp. They’d visit Emily and Jenna, or call up Cougar’s family. But mornings during their downtime could last until ten or eleven, and Cougar guarded each memory jealously, because they were his and Jensen’s, memories shining like separate sunrises in his mind, and while Cougar loved the hard Jensen, the warrior Jensen, the smart and sharp and constantly moving Jensen, he also loved this slower, sleepy, cuddly and affectionate Jensen.

And it was all his, and his alone.


	17. To Sleep After A Nightmare

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _17\. Spooning_ , **T**

Cougar never wakes up from his nightmares with those dramatic gasps you always see on television. He doesn’t sit up, doesn’t go to the bathroom, doesn’t go to the window and stare melodramatically out.

No, when Cougar has a nightmare, he goes absolutely still and doesn’t move until the sun comes up.

Jensen’s shared a bed with him often enough to know that that’s how this goes. That Cougar makes small noises in his sleep, and kicks sometimes. Cougar shifts and twitches and grunts under his breath. But when Cougar goes absolutely still, something’s wrong.

Jensen stares into the darkness, much like what Cougar’s doing right now, and debates with himself internally. Lean over and talk? Cougar’s not much for talking in any case, that might not help. Start to talk about his own nightmares? Yeah, he’d been captured before, been broken before, but nothing could measure up to Cougar’s stint in Afghanistan. Offer false platitudes? That’s not them, and that never has been. He can’t make it better, can’t scrape the evil memories out, can’t burn them away. Memories don’t work like that.

Cougar is an intensely private man, and they’re new at this relationship thing. They’re still feeling their way around one another, and he doesn’t want to offend Cougar’s pride in any way. But he can’t just leave Cougar there to not-sleep for another four hours.

So, trying to pretend as if this was all in his sleep, he yawns and rolls, throwing an arm around Cougar’s waist. Cougar sucks in a startled breath, but before Cougar could throw Jensen’s arm off - or ask what was going on, or see if Jensen really was asleep - Jensen hums softly and curls himself around Cougar’s body.

With his knees tucked into the back of Cougar’s knees, Cougar’s ass pressed against his groin, Cougar’s back against his chest, Cougar’s hair tickling his nose, and Cougar twisting to try and get his squished right arm into a comfortable position, Jensen nuzzles at the nape of Cougar’s neck and lets out a contented sigh.

Cougar grunts and wriggles a bit - which does nothing at all to help Jensen from getting a hard-on, but this isn’t about sex, this is about intimacy - but when he can’t easily pull away he settles down, huffing and muttering under his breath. Jensen tries to keep his breathing steady, tries not to let Cougar know he’s awake.

Finally, Cougar relaxes completely, heaving a put-upon sigh and threading his left hand’s fingers with Jensen’s fingers that were splayed casually over Cougar’s abdomen. Jensen waits a while longer, but it seems like Cougar’s really gone back to sleep - his breathing is slow and even, he twitches a little, even kicks back with his heel into Jensen’s shin (bony motherfucker).

And wrapped around Cougar like this, smelling musk and spice and a hint of Cougar’s cologne, Jensen finds himself dropping off himself, warm and secure and happy in the knowledge that, though he couldn’t take Cougar’s nightmares away, he could at least make it easier on Cougar to get some actual rest.


	18. Blood As Red As Roses

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _18\. Doing something together_ (so I picked killing. yay!), **M**

“Down!”

Jensen obeyed the command, dropping to his knees as his fingers flew over the many wires. Cougar grunted above him and Jensen smiled a wolf’s smile, sharp and on edge and full of blood. “Almost done here.”

There wasn’t a response - Jensen didn’t expect there to be one. Once he’d gotten his wire into the mainframe and connected his hard drive to the main computer, he’d be done here and they could move from this room to the main part of the complex. Of their entire team, they were the only two still moving. They needed this information, and it was supposed to be top priority, but their team came first. Clay, Pooch, and Roque were still captured somewhere within the winding halls of this otherwise innocent-looking office building, and Cougar was guarding Jensen just long enough for Jensen to secure the information. Then they’d go find - 

“Done!” Jensen crowed, leaning back and grabbing his pack. “It’ll upload as we speak - as long as no one bothers it for, oh, maybe ten seconds, it’ll get everything onto my secure server. Let’s go!”

“Ten seconds,” Cougar growled.

“Oh come on, no one will come here! We’ll be too busy killing everyone!” Jensen protested as Cougar whirled and felled another arms dealer with a perfect head shot. Jensen licked his lips. “C’mon, Cougs, it’s perfectly fine to leave it here and go - “

“How much is it?”

Jensen made a face. “Spoilsport. It’s not like it’ll bankrupt the army to replace the equipment.”

“Seven seconds,” Cougar said with finality.

Grumbling under his breath, Jensen began packing up everything, pulling his guns out and putting them in reach. There were two more shots in quick succession, and without speaking Jensen handed up a new clip for Cougar’s pistol. If they could find the stash - somewhere in this warehouse - they could equip themselves with a lot more ammo, but currently he and Cougar were operating off of the dregs from their first outing to this place precisely because the dealers had found their makeshift base and taken most of everything they had brought, along with Clay, Pooch, and Roque, who all three had been waiting for Cougar and Jensen to come back after their initial scouting of this place.

Cougar made a questioning sound and Jensen grunted. “Ready. Just give it - there. That’s enough time.” He reached over, unplugging the electrical cord, and stuffed it into the bag, along with the drive, and zipped it up. He gripped both pistols and let out a slow breath before tilting his head up with a manic grin on his face. “It’s clobbering time,” he breathed.

A small smile danced at the edges of Cougar’s mouth before Cougar gave Jensen a short nod, ducked his head down and gave Jensen a breathless, searing kiss, and then they were slamming out of the room, shooting at every sign of movement. They were met with a rain of bullets themselves, Cougar catching one in his upper arm and Jensen taking a graze to his head and one punching through the meat of his thigh. They cut their way through one hallway after another, kicking in doors, trying to find their teammates.

Jensen was laughing, talking at high speed, and Cougar was as silent and deadly as always, but his eyes gleamed with something much darker. They ran out of bullets long before they found the stash, and then Jensen stopped talking, Cougar pulled out a machete as long as his forearm, and they moved like twin wolves. Jensen picked up another bullet wound, and Cougar’s hat got splashed with blood from a cut slashed at him with a box cutter that very nearly had sliced his throat open.

They moved in tandem, and the longer Jensen remained silent, the deadlier he became, and the longer Jensen remained silent, the more erratic and reckless Cougar became.

When they finally did find Clay, Pooch, and Roque, tied up and bloody, Jensen’s teeth were bloodstained and his eyes wild, grinning like a fool with too much teeth showing, and Cougar’s hat was splattered in blood, one arm drenched in his own blood, breathing hard and unable to stay still.

Of the three captured, Roque was the only one conscious. He took one look at Cougar and swore under his breath, then glared at Jensen. “Jensen!” he barked.

That seemed to jerk Jensen’s attention away from the doorway, and he blinked a moment or two before he bobbed his head like a pigeon. “Yeah, yeah. You uh - you can stand?”

“Get Clay up. Cougar!”

Cougar looked up feverishly from where he was picking up as much ammunition and guns as he could carry from the dead bodies littering the floor.

“Get Pooch up. You’re going to have to carry him out of here. And for fuck’s sake, get me a goddamn gun.”

Given direction, the two of them began to attend to the tasks set out for them, and Roque let out a long breath. They were all Black Ops soldiers, they were all of them deadly and dangerous with a dark side they didn’t like to think about most of the time.

They made it out, and it took a day or two before either Jensen or Cougar came down from the killing high, smiles still too sharp and movements too precise and controlled to be anything but reminders of the wolves that lived inside the both of them. They touched more than normal, Jensen’s jokes were far more morbid, and Cougar was more restless, but Roque watched them come down, orbiting each other like planets waiting to collide, and just fucking hoped that they didn’t fuck where he could hear them still.


	19. Dry Cleaning Discoveries

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _19\. In formal wear_ , **M**

Jensen was used to dressing in a suit. For the cons they ran, for the business meetings - hell, sometimes even when acting as a consultant to an IT division on his downtime for some quick cash. But Cougar - Cougar was not a suit-and-tie person. And hey, the cowboy look really worked for Cougar, while it failed horribly on Jensen.

The cowboy look really,  _really_  worked.

 _Damn_.

But, when it came down to getting to Max by getting to an heiress who may or may not be supporting Max’s plans because of her many, many companies that produced many, many products of war, the easiest way to get into her house and to her private computer server and documents was, really, just to go in when the most amount of chaos was going on.

A formal ball.

And while normally Cougar would be up and high on an outside building, covering them in the way that he knew best, all covert activities would be carried out in the central offices within the building - no windows, no outside support, just old-fashioned guard-the-hallway-and-whistle-if-someone-comes-up legwork. Clay and Aisha were poised to provide a distraction, Pooch had a stretch limo waiting for their getaway, and Cougar was covering Jensen as he hacked into the mainframe and located the important files.

So Jensen got to stare as Cougar got dressed, at Cougar’s ass in tight slacks, look at the way the jacket molded over the slim body, tuck in at the small of the back and the waist. No hat, and that threw the whole thing off, frankly; but if that hat had been present, Jensen would have walked around with a boner all night, so maybe he should be grateful instead that Cougar’s hair was brushed back into soft waves that fell against his collar and were tucked behind his ears.

Cougar sat down and scowled at Jensen as Jensen got dressed.

With a big smile, Jensen finished buttoning up his blue-striped dress shirt spread his hands expressively and said, “I can’t help it if you’re smoking no matter what you wear, you know. I could just get down to my knees right now and suck you off - just pull your dick out of your zip and wrinkle all that fabric, mess you up, because damn you’re just asking to be messed up.”

Cougar crossed his legs irritably and glowered at the floor.

Jensen leaned forward, picking his jacket up off the hotel bed, and brushed his lips against the top of Cougar’s ear - a sensitive point, he knew. “Just imagine when we get back, I’ll tie you down to the bed fully clothed and ride your dick until you scream, come all over your pretty black suit and mark you as mine.”

+-+-+-+-+

_“Dammit Jensen, **you’re**  going to be the one to take them to the dry cleaners before we return them! What the  **hell**?!”_


	20. Happy Dances

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _20\. Dancing_ , **T**

Jensen has two left feet. Not literally, but get him on a dance floor and he just convulses a bit and then slinks back to his table. Cougar would make soft jokes about it, ruffling his spiky hair and poking him in the ribs with his finger. Pooch would chuckle about it, mumbling under his breath that at least he had enough sense to just stand and sway and let Jolene do the dancing. Roque would make loud jokes about it, because fuck Jensen’s luck but Roque could actually dance in a way that didn’t look like someone was wired into an electrical socket.

Still, in the privacy of his own room, while hacking or while just fooling around on the internet, while playing his video games, he would jump up and down, swivel his hips, and generally caper about like a crazy person. He had a lot of nervous energy that made it difficult to remain still for a long period of time, and a lot of exuberance that drove Clay to madness and pissed Roque off quite a bit.

Private dances, however, had a habit of becoming public when your partner decided to enter the room behind you as you were doing your own startling rendition of ‘I Throw My Hands Up In The Air Sometimes’.

There was a snort from behind him and he froze, turning around to see Cougar staring at him with one eyebrow raised knowingly. Jensen felt color flood his cheeks and he lowered his arms, standing in a more somber pose. “Ah. Cougar. I guess you guys are back?”

“Si,” Cougar murmured, drawing the vowel out as he tilted his head and looked past Jensen to the computer.

“Ah. I. Erm. Beat the level. And was - well.”

Cougar eyed him a moment before shaking his head fondly. “Continue,” he said, gesturing.

“No thank you - I’ve humiliated myself enough, I think and you know that’s not actually something I enjoy doing, even though it happens so often,” Jensen mumbled.

“Jensen,” Cougar interrupted, putting a hand on his forearm. “You are happy. You dance. It’s fine.” He paused, and then quirked up the corner of his lips. “It’s… cute.”

Jensen narrowed his eyes at Cougar. “I am not cute.”

Cougar hefted one shoulder up in a casual shrug.

“No - Cougar, I am not cute!”

“I like your dancing,” Cougar murmured, moving past Jensen to his bed and toeing off his shoes.

That stopped Jensen in his tracks. “I - no you don’t. I’m a disaster at it, even I recognize that!”

Cougar made a face. “But it means you are happy. So.”

Jensen stared at Cougar a moment longer before smiling slightly. “Well. Anyway. I should start on that next level.”

As he sat down in front of his computer, Cougar leaned forward and pressed a kiss against his shoulder. “Do not be embarrassed in front of me,” he whispered into Jensen’s ear.

With a small shiver, Jensen turned to kiss Cougar’s nose.


	21. Food for the Soul

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _21\. Cooking/baking_ , **T**

Generally speaking, Cougar cooked for the Losers. Roque could cook, but he was pretty much limited to beans and rice, or pasta. Pooch could cook some pretty good stews, but if he ever tried to hand you a piece of meat off a grill, don’t take it.

Clay could cook almost as well as Cougar, but Cougar cooked because while all the others could cook if they had to, none of them cooked because they liked to. Cougar cooked because he was the youngest of eight children, because his mother had babied him and yes, he could admit at the age of twenty-eight that his mother had favored him. He’d spend hours in the kitchen with her, watching, helping, washing, and chopping. When they had downtime, he’d go to the local grocery and pick up fresh ingredients, filling the house with the smell of spice and meat.

Jensen… Cougar didn’t know about Jensen. He wasn’t certain if the hacker cooked, most probably because the one time Jensen had been tasked to feed them after a particularly bad dust-up and on their way back to the rendezvous point, he’d forgot he’d been boiling water and ended up evaporating half of it. Beyond that, he didn’t seem to have the attention span to do the task, and he never seemed to have the inclination to enter the kitchen unless there was food to actually eat at his place.

So when Cougar came over to Jensen’s place and smelled warm bread, he was understandably confused. Walking into the kitchen, he saw Jensen chopping up peppers and tomatoes. Cougar leaned against the doorway and watched the slow, measured movements as Jensen moved about the kitchen, adding the vegetables to a pan and then turning to get a bowl and flour. When he turned back to the table he froze, catching sight of Cougar.

Cougar jerked his chin at the kitchen.

Jensen smiled weakly. “Ah. Yeah. I can cook?”

Jensen looked incredibly nervous. “Sometimes? It helps - calm me down.”

Cougar thought back to the methodical motions, the efficient tempo. Jensen, he knew, had trouble concentrating on less than three things at one time, and it made his thought process very erratic. Cougar was the best out of all of them at understanding and following the random thoughts that would cross Jensen’s lips. But there were times, in the mission, when Jensen was deadly focused, quiet and dangerous like all of them. “Not all the time,” Cougar pointed out.

“Well - okay, yeah, other things do too, but - cooking is - look, I can just leave this, okay?”

That was a blatant lie if Cougar ever heard one; it looked as if it physically pained Jensen to say those last words. He might not understand why Jensen was lying about the cooking, but in either case, it was probably something intensely personal. And while Jensen was always the one to try and take their shared intimacy to the next level, Jensen was still extremely private about his past and certain aspects of his life, if not his heart and his physical affection.

So Cougar shook his head, taking off his hat and hanging it off the back of one of the chairs before rolling up his sleeves. “Show me where to help.”

For a long moment, Jensen hesitated, torn between accepting and rejecting Cougar’s help, and then he sighed. “If you could - get those apples and cut them into thin slices? For apple pie.”

Cougar located a knife and began to cut the apple, leaving the skin on because he preferred it that way and because Jensen didn’t bother to correct him. After Jensen seemed to relax, Cougar murmured, “Mi mami would cook with me. She would teach me.”

Jensen swallowed hard - he was getting the crust ready, Cougar could see - and grinned weakly. “Yeah? I always love your food, you know. You cook well.”

Nodding to their surroundings, the kitchen almost oppressively warm with the summer sun coming in the window and the heat from the oven making lazy waves above the range, Cougar said, “So do you, si?”

“Heh.” Jensen licked his lips and then said very softly, “I suppose. Not that well. But. Well enough.”

“Practiced often?” Cougar asked, keeping his voice studiously casual.

Jensen tapped the spoon against the edge of the bowl and then let out a long sigh. “Not - really. Mom left, before she could teach me a lot. And Emily was working to support us. So it was more - of a necessity. But. It’s calming, in a way.”

“Mmm. It is nice,” Cougar said softly, shifting so that his hip and shoulder brushed against Jensen’s side, “to cook alongside someone.”

For a long while, Jensen just busied himself with rolling out the dough, mixing the filling and adding in the apples. When he took the bread out of the warm oven and put the pie in, he let out a soft sigh. “Yeah. You’re right.”


	22. Battle Quirks and Fixes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _22\. In battle, side by side_ , **M**

The Losers moved together like a well-oiled machine. Of course, they had trained that way - that was the point after all - but all of them were Losers and that meant a lot to them. It meant Clay was never advancing any farther, as much as he wanted to; it meant anyone else would have had Roque and Jensen dishonorably discharged years ago; it meant Cougar had authority problems and Pooch had anger management problems, both of which could have them discharged (honorably, but just barely) from any other commander. It meant that when the Losers were sent out, they were sent out to prove to everyone that yes, they were Clay’s Losers, and they were damn good at what they did, no matter what the fucking higher-ups thought. And they got shit done, which possibly explained why they were so often off-base and downtime, when they had it, was too short.

It also meant that they’d learned quirks about one another. They learn about what winds their teammates up and puts them in a bad place, and how to bring them out of it. For one thing, if Jensen couldn’t talk, he’d get twitchy - until you put a M-4 in his hands, which is when he goes scarily silent and won’t talk until the Losers in general and Cougar in particular coaxes him back into speech, normally by dissing Buffy the vampire slayer in his line of hearing. Roque has a thing about knives; corner him, and it’s what he’ll go to first and what he ends up with more often than not, and he’s fucking vicious with them, and Clay’s the only one who can talk him down when Roque gets like that. Pooch will do absolutely everything he can in a mission to make at least one thing explode, from tossing a grenade to driving an oil tanker into a concrete wall, and the more nervous and upset he is the more likely the explosion will be a big one, but if Roque’s on his six, Roque can keep Pooch reined in. Clay has a habit of crowing ‘outstanding’ and put a service pistol in his hand and Clay’s happier than any man has a right to be in the middle of a fire-fight, and while no one can talk Clay down, not really, Cougar’s found that if you get Clay to sit down after a mission and put a cup of scalding coffee in one hand and headphones over Clay’s ears and busy him with nothing but classical music, eventually Clay loses the manic look at the back of his eyes. And Cougar, Cougar is absolutely silent, but the minute that his team is out of contact or not responding he gets twitchy, growing more erratic and vicious until he’s nervously pacing, looking for all the world like his namesake, and only Jensen can talk him down.

So when Pooch and Clay disappear on this mission, Cougar’s more erratic than normal and Roque’s slashing at every corner and the only (relatively) sane person on board is Jensen, but Roque’s a tactician and Cougar’s a sniper and Jensen’s a fucking magician with computers.  Roque plans out a line of attack, Cougar provides backup as Roque storms the compound, a one-man army in camo-green, and Jensen provides a distraction as Roque makes his way towards wherever the hell Pooch and Clay are.

Cougar might be a little more trigger-happy than normal. That’s okay, though. He’s got a lot of ammo.

" - saying you can’t just act this way, so of course she gets upset and starts calling me a hypocritical bitch, which is actually kinda rude because if anyone, she’s the hypocrite - "

Jensen’s steady chatter in Cougar’s ear is an anchor and a restraint all in one, a subtle reminder not to switch over to the heavy artillery that Cougar could use but won’t until he knows Roque’s got Pooch and Clay out. As it stands, Cougar’s spraying the bad guys that pop out to shoot Jensen - who’s practically dancing around the compound’s yard - with far more aggression and far less accuracy than normal. Jensen’s voice keeps him focused, and reminds him that there are friends down there and as much as he wants to lob a fucking missile in the middle of it all, he won’t and he can’t, because Jensen’s voice is down there.

It isn’t until Roque’s terse voice comes over the line that Cougar even notices Roque came up, Clay limping behind him and Pooch slung over his shoulder. Jensen redoubles his efforts to be a diversion, and Cougar finds that having to split his attention to covering his fool of a boyfriend and the rest of the team does wonders to settle him down.

When they’re out, back at their evac, Jensen sits next to Cougar and takes Cougar’s hand in his own, rubbing each digit slowly. It’s only then that Cougar realizes his hands are curled around imaginary guns.

“Pooch is fine,” Jensen murmurs, and his voice is soft and the medics don’t look over at them as they flutter around Pooch’s too-still, too-quite body. “He’s gonna be laid up a while, but we’re good. We’re okay, Cougar.”

Heaving out a long sigh, Cougar lists to one side and closes his eyes, letting Jensen’s words roll over him. It isn’t often that they get to fight side by side, and while Cougar loves his position, loves the ability to be up high and protect his team that way, it’s the most nerve-wracking when he’s thinking back to lost teams, when he’s too deep in his own head.

Jensen’s monologues about the feasibility of Batman’s tech, though. That goes a long way to pulling him out.


	23. Where's Your Gun, Jensen?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _23\. Arguing_ , **T**

“Look, it’s a totally legitimate thing to forget, okay?!”

Cougar didn’t answer, just slammed into their shared apartment, dumped his coat on the back of the couch, and stormed into the master bedroom and into the bathroom.

“You’re fucking overreacting!” Jensen snarled from the doorway, and Cougar closed the bathroom door, locking it.

Inside the bathroom, he turned on the faucet to the highest it could go and then leaned against the wall, trying - unsuccessfully - to stop himself from trembling. It was too fucking close this time, and all of it could have been avoided if Jensen hadn’t fucking  _forgot his motherfucking gun in the control room_ when he finished hacking the mainframe.

But Jensen had, and he’d come out of the control room and almost been shot, and then realized he hadn’t had his gun on him and in the ensuing chaos had gotten shot, and Cougar never again wanted to watch Jensen’s eyes widen, watch blood bloom on his abdomen and gush into his trousers, never wanted to see Jensen fall to the ground and not wake up until thirty-seven hours later, surrounded by white sheets and machines that beeped incessantly.

Swallowing hard, he ran his shaking hands under the cold water, wiped it over his face and the back of his neck before turning it off.

Out in the bedroom, Jensen was sitting on the bed with the laptop on his lap, bristling and angry and hurt, still pale from the blood loss. Cougar couldn’t deal right now with Jensen’s angry declarations that it was an honest mistake, because it was a mistake that had nearly gotten him killed and for fuck’s sake, he was a damn black ops soldier,  _he knew the importance of keeping your weapon on you at all times_ , what the  _hell_  did he think he was doing?

“Cougs - ” Jensen began.

Cougar put up a hand, breathing hard through his nose, and said shortly, “No. Do not - no.”

Jensen looked crestfallen, and for a minute there was only hurt on his face. Then it disappeared behind anger and defiance, and he said just as sharply, “It was an amateur mistake and I fucking know that, but I’m okay and this is done and over with, alright? We’ve learned our lesson - “

“No, you haven’t!” Cougar snarled, and he had promised himself he wasn’t going to let Jensen drag him into this but dammit, he didn’t know what to do, because this was a fucking pattern! “You’ve done it before and taken the CAPE, you did it now, and you’ll do it again, because you don’t care about anything but your precious  _information_ , don’t notice anything but that, and you throw your life on the line for pointless shit!”

“This pointless shit will save lives and you know it! This is what we go in for, information, and dammit but I’m good at what I do and it takes time, fucking  _time_ , to do what I do, and I know we’re on time limits so I’m rushing my motherfucking ass off trying to get out, so things get left behind, okay?!”

“ _Not your fucking weapon, Corporal Jake Jensen_!”

Jensen stared at Cougar a long moment, and Cougar couldn’t meet that sad gaze. Shaking his head, Cougar grabbed his civilian piece from the drawer and stalked out of the room.

“Where the fuck are you going?!” Jensen shouted at him.

“Out!” Cougar snarled back before slamming the apartment door behind him. There was a range not that far from here that he could lose himself at and just not think about how it was too fucking close this last time.

He loved the idiot, and dammit all if Jensen wasn’t aiming to put him into an early grave.


	24. I'm Sorry, I'm Sorry, I'm Sorry

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _24\. Making up afterwards_ (this immediately follows #23, so if you haven’t read that this one might not make sense), **E**

Cougar stayed out all night, moving from the gun range to a bar (where he nursed a bottle of whiskey until closing) to just wandering the streets when the bar closed. He couldn’t think of a way to make Jensen remember his gun - even now, after going through all that training, after being on multiple missions, Jensen still forgot it in the heat of the moment and it had nearly lent to his death. Cougar knew he was good, that the Losers protected their own, but they weren’t invincible, and they couldn’t watch Jensen all the time. He was a big boy, after all - a year or two older than Cougar - and was supposed to be a responsible adult.

Theoretically.

It wasn’t until the traffic began to pick up on the streets and more and more people appeared that Cougar realized he’d been out much longer than he’d intended. Feeling slightly guilty - he didn’t like going to bed angry, and yes, that meant that sometimes he and Jensen had stayed up for an entire night hashing things out, and as it stood he was giving Jensen the silent treatment and Jensen never dealt well with that kind of punishment. For a minute, he hesitated between heading straight back to their shared apartment or getting an offering of coffee and sugar so that Jensen wasn’t so mad that Cougar had disappeared like that last night.

Offering. Better safe than sorry.

When he finally got back to the apartment, bag with the donuts hanging from his pinky and ring fingers while he clutched the double cup holder with his middle and index fingers, he fumbled with his keys, trying to use his non-dominant hand to get them out of his pocket and into the lock.

Before he could, though, the door was flung open and then Jensen had him by the shoulders, dragging him into the apartment and shoving him against the now-closed apartment door. It took Cougar a few seconds before he realized that Jensen was whispering, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry Cougs, I’m sorry, don’t do that again, I’m so sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry” over and over again against Cougar’s neck.

Feeling like a complete shit for what he had put Jensen through - especially considering that Cougar hadn’t taken his phone with him, hadn’t explained anything at all, had just stormed out last night without a word of reassurance - Cougar curled one hand up around Jensen’s back and rubbed at the space between his should blades. “Shh, Jensen, it’s fine. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to. I’m sorry.”

Jensen finally pulled back, and Cougar got a good look at his sunken eyes, his shaking shoulders, and the wild look in his face. “Cougar, I’m sorry, I didn’t - “

“Shh,” Cougar murmured, putting two fingers against the corner of Jensen’s mouth, stroking his thumb over Jensen’s lips. Jensen shuddered, hard, and swallowed. “Let me put this down.”

Jensen only then seemed to realize that Cougar was holding something, and he blinked sluggishly at the bag and cup holders. “Is that - Dunkin Donuts?’

“Si,” Cougar murmured. “It was to be - an apology. I did not mean to stay out as long as I did.” Setting the bag and cups on the kitchen table, Cougar turned back to Jensen, who was standing in the doorway of the kitchen. He looked much smaller than normal, shoulders curving in, face haggard, fingers nervously twisting in the hem of his shirt. Again, Cougar felt guilt squirm in his gut. He had been mad at Jensen, but never to the point of making Jensen this upset, or worried, or terrified. With a sigh, he went to Jensen’s side and wound his arms up around Jensen’s neck, resting his cheek against Jensen’s chest, and let out a long sigh.

The position seemed to help Jensen, too - the hacker let his arms fall to Cougar’s waist and wrap around, and Jensen’s cheek pressed against the top of Cougar’s head, making the customary cowboy hat tilt back. After a moment, Cougar pulled back, carding fingers through the short hairs at the nape of Jensen’s neck, and looked at Jensen steadily. “I am sorry,” he said, voice low and utterly sincere. “It was a mistake to be out this long.”

Jensen licked his lips nervously. “I’m - I’m sorry, Cougar. I’ll remember next time - “

Cougar shook his head, and his eyes were resigned even if he strove to keep his face perfectly neutral. “You will not. You will forget. And I will have another heart attack. And maybe this time you will not have a bullet through your small intestines, but through your heart. Through your head. And you will kill me as surely as you killed yourself. Understand, Jensen,” he said, and his voice was low now, barely a whisper, “if you die… I will follow you. There is little that will keep me from your side - wherever you may go.”

Jensen shivered, eyes haunted. “Sometimes, Cougs - sometimes people die. And you can’t do anything about it,” he answered, voice hoarse. “Sometimes, the hardest thing to do is to go on living - but that’s the best thing to do, too. I don’t - no eating your gun. Or death by bad guy. Okay? For you or for - or for me. If that. If that happens. But I will try to remember my gun. We can - have a punishment system. Or something. But the information was the important part this time, and I know I should have grabbed my gun, but we needed to leave. I was rushing, and made sure to grab the computer stuff first. That was the objective. And we completed the mission.”

“We nearly lost you,” Cougar countered, growling.

“And yeah, that would have sucked for me. And - and more for you than me,” Jensen added on hastily. “But Cougs - the mission comes first. Besides, even if I had had my gun… who’s to say I would have had it up in time to take out that shooter?”

“You are not as bad with the gun as Roque implies,” Cougar snarled, but he knew what Jensen was getting at. He understood it objectively. But with the stitches still shiny, the scar still terribly new and painfully present, Cougar was finding it hard to be objective.

Jensen pressed a kiss to the corner of Cougar’s mouth, slow and questioning. “We’re in a dangerous line of work, Cougs,” he murmured against Cougar’s lips. “We’re not always going to be this lucky.”

Cougar rumbled his displeasure deep in his throat and dragged Jensen’s head closer, sealing his lips over Jensen’s to silence the words that were Cougar’s deepest fear.

Somehow, they found their way backwards, across the hall to the living room, and from there to the couch, until - quite by accident - Cougar found himself pulling away, breathing hard, to find that he was lying on top of Jensen, Jensen’s fingers buried deep in Cougar’s hair, Jensen’s shirt rucked up under his armpits and Cougar’s hands stroking over Jensen’s treasure trail and playing with the waistband of Jensen’s boxers. Cougar’s jeans were unbuttoned and his shirt was missing, but he wanted to apologize to Jensen, wanted to make his hacker feel good. So he pulled back, getting up on his knees, with one on either side of Jensen’s hips.

Jensen stared up at him, hands falling to Cougar’s ribs, curled around so that his thumbs could brush against the edges of Cougar’s pecs. “Cougs?” he asked, voice rough.

“Shh,” Cougar murmured, gently taking Jensen’s hands and stretching them over Jensen’s head and curling those fingers against the armrest. He then crawled down the couch - accidentally kicking Jensen in the shin, but he figured Jensen could forgive him that - and kneeled awkwardly between Jensen’s knees, mouthing at the hard-on Jensen had in his boxers. Jensen whined in the back of his throat, fingers digging into the cushion of the arm, even as Cougar tugged the waistband of Jensen’s boxers down to expose his erection.

“I am sorry,” Cougar murmured, letting his lips trail over the shaft, press lightly on the underside of the head, one hand curling around the base. Jensen gasped and let out a soft keen, hips bucking up into Cougar’s grip. It looked as if Jensen was going to try and say something, and Cougar really didn’t want to have them go back and forth over who was the most sorry for their actions, and so he pressed a kiss to the tip of Jensen’s cock and then slid his mouth down almost to the base.

With a yelp, Jensen’s arms bulged and his neck arched, veins standing out as he tried to keep himself from thrusting up into Cougar’s mouth - which Cougar much appreciated, since he was still trying to find his rhythm and get a grip on Jensen’s hips. Still, at this point they were both desperate, their fight last night lending an edge that had Jensen sobbing raggedly, trying desperately to warn Cougar he was near coming, and had Cougar’s erection trapped against his belly, held tight by the zipper.

“Cougs, Cougs - Carlos, I’m so fucking close - ” Jensen gasped, lips red in the soft morning light, skin glowing gold and hair tipped with light, sweat slicking every inch of his skin as he fought not to come. Cougar tightened his fist around Jensen’s cock and dragged his mouth off so that he could concentrate solely at the head and the bundle of sensitive nerves under the head, which made Jensen cry out in what almost sounded like pain, back bowed and hips pumping up into Cougar’s grip as he came.

Within minutes, Cougar was frantically yanking at his zipper, dragging his jeans and briefs down just enough to get his own dick free. Jensen was splayed out on the couch, covered in his own cooling ejaculate and loose-limbed, sleepy-eyed and blissed out. Cougar didn’t do anything fancy, just rutted against Jensen’s thigh, kissing those slack lips and moaning into Jensen’s mouth, Jensen lazily sucking on his tongue and lower lip. Then Cougar was coming, eyes snapping shut as stars burst across the back of his eyelids.

He came back to himself, realizing he was slumped over on top of Jensen, and that Jensen had clumsily pawed the afghan off the back of the couch and draped it over the both of them. They were sticky, smelling of sweat and sex, and this wouldn’t resolve the fact that Jensen really did need to be more careful and that Cougar needed to learn that accidents could and would happen, as much as he hated them -

But with the early morning light streaming through the windows just enough to make everything golden but not sharp enough to keep him awake, Cougar felt his eyes grow heavy, and he fell asleep with his ear over Jensen’s steady heart.


	25. Ice Age and Concussions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _25\. Gazing into each other's eyes_ , **T**

“Hey, hey Cougs - Cougs, hey, Cougar, you got beautiful eyes, man, you know that?”

Jensen’s smiling too big and too sloppy, eyes barely tracking as he looks up at Cougar, who’s cradling Jensen’s head on Cougar’s knees and hoping that it really isn’t Jensen’s brains that are leaking out onto his pant legs. Every time Pooch hits a pothole, Jensen makes a pained, whimpering sound, like a dog that’s been kicked or a baby kitten that had been separated from his family. In the front seat, Clay’s doing little better than Jensen, though at least he’s coherent and not concussed six ways to hell - pale and clutching one arm tight to his chest, Clay’s focusing on not throwing up. Which is a good thing. The smell of vomit always triggers Jensen into vomiting as well, and that’s one thing Cougar absolutely does not need right now.

“Cougs, do you know where that’s from? Haha, it’s a line, and it’s cheesy, but Jenna loves the movie. I like the movie too. Hey Cougs, do you know where that’s from?”

“Shhh,” Cougar whispered, running fingers over the bloodied hairline of the hacker, trying to quiet him - not so much because they needed to be quiet, because they’d made their getaway and they were on their way home, but because Roque was nursing a sore head and a cracked collarbone, and was crammed into the back with Cougar and Jensen, and had a low tolerance for Jensen’s babble on his good days.

Jensen keened as they went over a particularly bad bump, his leg falling off the seat and Roque’s lap to hit the floor with a thud, audible enough that Cougar winced, even though it wasn’t Jensen’s bad leg that had fallen. “Cougs, Cougar, man, it fucking hurts, it - “

As much as Cougar was embarrassed by Jensen’s previous line of speech, letting Jensen focus on the pain he was feeling would be worse. Hastily, he grabbed Jensen’s face, meeting Jensen’s gaze, letting his fingertips brush over Jensen’s cheeks. “Shh, mi amado. Safe. You’re safe. We’re fine. Si?”

“You have beautiful eyes,” Jensen whispered back.

Cougar fought not to roll his eyes in response and instead held Jensen’s attention, one hand smoothing fingers over Jensen’s chest. “We’re almost to base, we’re safe. Si? Everything will be fine.”

Jensen’s eyes blinked once, twice, lazy and slow to open again, and Cougar barely refrained from shaking Jensen’s shoulders frantically. “No, no, Jensen, eyes open. Keep looking at me. Not yet, understand? That’s an order.”

With a hazy smile, Jensen reached up with blood-stained fingers and clumsily dragged Cougar’s head closer, until they were pressed forehead to forehead, Jensen’s eyes boring painfully into Cougar’s. “Not going anywhere,” Jensen murmured.

Which Jensen ruined, three minutes later, when he promptly passed out, but by that time they were on base and medics were swarming, so even though Cougar had lost sight of those gorgeous eyes (yes, he was more than a little bumped up himself, so sue him) he had the reassurance that Jensen would be just fine.

And Jensen was just fine, and Cougar was there when those blue eyes opened again and locked onto his.


	26. Proposing, Jensen-Style

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _26\. Getting married_ (which I took to interpret as proposing, not the actual marriage. oops.), **T**

“C’mon, it’d be fun!”

Cougar rolled his eyes and twisted, coming up under Jensen’s arm shooting. “No.”

“Couuuuuuuuuuugs!”

“ _Callate_.”

-+-+-

“Ooh, how ‘bout in Paris? Eiffel Tower? City of looooove?”

“Morphine starting to hit you, eh?”

-+-+-

“Cougs, Cougar, my man, what do you say about a July wedding? Fireworks, explosions, beer, BBQ, every red-blooded man’s dream!”

Cougar shoved Jensen off the porch and into the pool behind Pooch’s house.

-+-+-

“Hey, hey, Cougs, you know, maybe we should - “

“ _Callate_!”

Jensen smiled, lips blue and no longer even shivering. Cougar vainly tried to curl up tighter to the taller man, rubbing at his limbs, trying to restart the circulation. “Would’ve liked to be married before - “

“You are not dying!” Cougar snarled, more like his namesake than ever, trying to do what little he could to warm Jensen up. They were both cold, though, stuck in this frozen wasteland (motherfucking Russian winters, who the fuck thought they should track down Max  _here, now_?) but Jensen had fallen in the lake they had camped by and was slowing down, even his speech starting to wind down. Cougar was frantic - the others were on their way, with a truck and heating and medicine, to pick him and Jensen up, but Jensen needed to stay  _alive_  that long -

“Love you, you know. Our wedding would’ve been awesome.”

“It will be!” Cougar growled. “It will be, it will happen - “

Jensen blinked, so slowly it almost looked like he had been falling asleep. “You - you’re saying yes?”

“I’m saying you better fucking ask me properly, cabron, it will happen, Jensen, stay awake, you fucker, stay fucking  _awake_!”

Hearing tires crunch on snow had never been a sweeter sound.

-+-+-

Cougar leaned back in the chair, smiling to himself. In the backyard before him, Pooch was horsing around with Roque, to the delight of Jenna. In the kitchen, with the window open so the low murmur of their conversation carried, Clay and Jolene and Emily were cleaning up after their dinner. Jensen was perched on the porch railing, and Cougar was sitting in one of the garden chairs, just looking up to the dusky twilight.

“So.”

Cougar raised an eyebrow and turned his head to see Jensen hopping off the railing, nervous and jittery. His eyes narrowed in suspicion - Jensen had mentioned pulling off a prank on a fellow soldier and Jensen’s idea of what was an acceptable limit was vastly different than society’s idea of an acceptable limit. “Si?”

Jensen cleared his throat, face serious and slightly uncomfortable. “I’m not good at situations like these.”

“Like what?” Cougar asked, confused.

Heaving a sigh, Jensen worried at his lip and then sank to his knees in the grass, surrounded by the lazy summer heat and the sound of their team and their families in the background. He looked down at his hands, and then held up a small box.

Cougar’s heart stuttered in his chest.

“Well. Go on,” Jensen said, awkwardly.

Hesitantly, Cougar picked up the box and opened the lid to see a plain, almost utilitarian ring with four small dots of red framing a larger red stone.

“Made out of one of my casings,” Jensen babbled nervously. “I know I don’t have a favorite gun, like you, but I always pick the Beretta if I have a choice so I hope that it represents to you as much as - well, obviously, wait, I’m messing this up. I - Cougar, you’re the - okay, that sounds cheesy. You’re - you’re everything, to me. The guy I trust at my back, who’ll never give up on me. You’re it for me, Cougs.” Jensen’s voice cracked and he shifted on his knees, nervous and just a bit panicked. “And I hope - that you would marry me. Make it official and all.”

Cougar thought back to the guy who first thought the best way to propose getting married, four months ago while they were on leave in Vegas because ‘no one would expect us to, Cougs!’ The proposals had only ever happened at crazier times and with crazier circumstances afterwards. This - this made up for it all. This was perfect, and Cougar threw himself out of the chair to wrap arms around Jensen’s shoulders and kiss the hacker senseless.

“Moooooom! Uncle Jake and Uncle Cougar are kissing again!”


	27. Good Intentions and Bad Executions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _27\. On one of their birthdays_ , **T**

“I know you’re not going to appreciate being surprised,” Clay rumbled softly as he helped Cougar out of the car. They were all on leave - had been for the past week, and would be for a week longer - but this was the first that Cougar was out of the infirmary and at Jensen’s. Rather, at Jensen’s sister’s; Clay hadn’t driven him to Jensen’s apartment, which Cougar had been too out of it to really notice.

Clay’s words, though, had a sinking feeling appearing in the bottom of Cougar’s chest, and he looked at Clay quizzically.

“Your birthday was four days ago, right?”

Confused at how that would matter, Cougar nodded slowly.

With a sigh, Clay rubbed the back of his neck. “Jensen’s got it in his head that you guys need to celebrate your birthday, since it’s the first birthday either of you had since you started this dating thing.”

At least it wasn’t a break-up (Cougar was still waiting for Jensen to realize he could do better) - but it wasn’t much more comforting. All Cougar wanted to do was to curl up on a couch, eat Oreos, and maybe rewatch a season or two of Supernatural with Jensen. Not smile and play nice with whoever was inside.

Clay nodded sympathetically. “He’s wanted to do something for you, so this is kind of a ‘welcome home’ and ‘happy birthday’ thing.”

Steeling himself, Cougar nodded and began the slow trek up to the house. It hadn’t been a  _bad_  wound, per se - just in an inconvenient place (lower abdomen) that made it difficult to sit or walk.

When they got to the door, Cougar tried to make himself look suitably surprised and amused when Jensen popped out of nowhere, crowing “Happy Birthday, Cougs!” At the very least, it was only the Losers, a few of Cougar’s sniper buddies, and Jensen’s sister and niece. It was still a lot more people than Cougar had wanted to deal with, but he could tell Jensen was doing this to try and cheer him up and so Cougar grabbed a few minutes by himself to down maybe more painkillers than safely proscribed, but it gave him enough fortitude to get through the evening.

Mercifully, it was short - two hours longer than Cougar would’ve liked, but no more than two hours in total, and then Jensen was ushering people out of the door, thanking them all, and leaving Cougar sitting (painfully) on the couch with a piece of cake as he helped clean up the kitchen.

Before Pooch had left, he had leaned down next to Cougar, giving him a careful one-armed hug, and whispering, “Jensen’s heart is in the right place. Go easy on him? Because Clay sure didn’t.”

Not that Pooch had explained what that meant.

It was quiet in the house, now, and Cougar was pretty sure that everyone was gone, so he let himself slump to one side, lying as close to horizontal as possible to take the weight off his wound, listening to the domestic sounds of clean-up in the kitchen.

Soft lips pressed against his forehead, and Cougar hazily blinked open eyes to see Jensen very close to panic next to him - though the panic only showed in his eyes, not his face. He was still smiling, as he had been the entire evening, and he whispered, “Hey. Let’s get you upstairs?”

Cougar couldn’t stop the soft whimper; he didn’t want to move, he was already in so much pain, and the barely concealed panic spread across Jensen’s entire face.

“Hey, no, it’s okay, I’ll carry you, it’s alright, please be alright, Cougar, I’m so sorry -“

And then Jensen was curling his arms around the upper part of Cougar’s waist and Cougar’s thighs, and he  _lifted_ Cougar off the couch. Cougar made a little surprised squeak and wrapped his arms around Jensen’s neck - but Jensen had been careful to pick up Cougar in a way that put the majority of his weight on Jensen’s body instead of the low wound, so Cougar wasn’t in any more pain than he had been before.

(Cougar wasn’t even going to touch on the fact that Jensen being able to lift him this easily was  _such_ a turn-on.)

But he was hazy and still mostly out of it, so it took him a few minutes to realize that Jensen -  _Jake_ \- was apologizing over and over again, voice getting more feverish as he begged Cougar not to hate him.

Clumsily, Cougar patted Jensen’s chest and whispered, “It’s fine. It’s okay, Jensen. Maybe next time, small party, but it’s fine.”

That didn’t mean that Cougar stopped Jensen from lying Cougar out on the bed, tucking Cougar in warmly, turning on the large TV, making certain Cougar was propped up in a way that wouldn’t harm his wound.

And even if Cougar teased Jensen about the first birthday party they shared together, they shared many more together and they only got better over time.


	28. You're the One Who's Dating Him

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _28\. Doing something ridiculous _, **G**__

“Pleeeeeeease.”

“No.”

-+-+-+-

“It’ll be fun!”

“Jensen, we  _all_ know how that will turn out. No.”

“Cougar, please, please,  _please_?” _  
_

“No.”

-+-+-+-

Cougar looked up from his reports to see Jensen staring at him, lip out in a pout, eyes sorrowful. With a huff, Cougar narrowed his eyes. “No.”

-+-+-+-

“Dude, Cougs, Cougs, no, it’ll be - it’ll be fucking awesome - “

“You’re higher than a kite, Jensen, and you know Cougar has already said no.”

Cougar watched quietly from his perch on the small dresser in the hospital room as Pooch tried to get Jensen to stop flailing.

“No, I mean - it’ll be awesome, Cougs, Cougar, please, it’ll be so much fun, please, you know I love it, do it for me - “

“I think it’s time for sleepy Jensens to close their eyes,” Pooch said calmly, stroking the back of Jensen’s hands as he folded them on Jensen’s chest. “C’mon.”

“Can we do it now?”

Cougar let out a sigh and exited the room as Pooch continued to calm Jensen down enough that the painkillers could knock him all the way out.

-+-+-+-

“Jenna would love it, you know. We could send the video to her.”

“No, Jensen.  _Callate_.”

-+-+-+-

Roque sat down across from Cougar in the mess hall and gave him a hairy eyeball. Cougar looked around to try and find the rest of the team; they’d all gone out with Roque, and normally Roque was the one who got drunk the fastest. Or, well, not the fastest, but certainly with determined concentration - Pooch was their lightweight, and Jensen close after him.

“Jensen’s being mopey.”

Cougar cocked an eyebrow at Roque.

“You know how he gets overly cheerful and happy and touchy when he’s drunk? Yeah, that’s not happening. He’s got his face squished against the bar counter and is staring at his whiskey and moping. And he won’t tell us what’s wrong but we can guess. Would it really kill you? You have a good singing voice.”

Cougar narrowed his eyes. “You think it’s a good idea,  _you_ do it,” he growled.

“Nah, see,  _I’m_  not the crazy-ass fucker who decided to date that idiot. You are. And it’s your job to keep him happy. Right?”

Cougar snarled.

-+-+-+-

Cougar leaned against the doorway of Jensen’s office and watched the hacker as he finished filling out his paperwork for this past mission. It took only a couple of minutes for Jensen to feel the eyes on him, and he looked up, a pleased smile appearing as he saw Cougar. “Cougs! Come to help me finish up?”

“Go ahead, Jensen,” Cougar sighed.

Jensen blinked and cocked his head. “What?”

“You want me to - to sing this, I will do it. Here. Now. And if the video appears  _anywhere_ but your phone, you will get no sex for a month. Comprende?”

Jensen stared at him a moment longer before a huge smile spread across his face and he leapt up. “Yesyesyesyes okay yes let me get my phone do you know the words? If you don’t know the words I can print them out for you - “

“I know the words.”

Jensen whipped out his phone, beyond happy, and started the recording feature before aiming it at Cougar. “Go ahead!”

With a heavy sigh, Cougar raised his eyes heavenward. “You will have to go to a karaoke bar and sing before people for me. In return.”

“Dude, I don’t mind making a complete fool of myself.”

Cougar humphed and cleared his throat. “ _Let’s have some fun, this beat is sick…_ ”

-+-+-+-

“How was I supposed to keep it from them; you have an awesome singing voice!”

Cougar growled, cheeks heated red, as Jenna capered around the house singing Lady Gaga’s “Love Game” at the top of her lungs and begging for her Uncle Cougar to join in - egged on by the rest of the Losers.


	29. Sweetness Measured in Minutes Spent By My Side

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _29\. Doing something sweet_ , **G**

Cougar has to admit, for all the worry and trouble Jake gets into, he’s actually pretty sweet.

He keeps chocolate around all the time - and how he finds one of those jumbo Hershey milk chocolate bars sans nuts in the middle of Russia is beyond Cougar, it really, really is - and it’s never for Jensen himself, always for Cougar. (Cougar shares, because he’s nice that way. But only with people who ask first.)

Jensen’s the one that’ll replace the Hat - and is the only one allowed to replace the Hat - if it gets destroyed in a mission. He’s also been known to find the Hat sometimes, and pick it up to return it to Cougar.

He was the best wingman, back when Cougar was trying to prove he wasn’t what his mother hissed when she passed by the two women who shared a house down the street. Back when Cougar was trying to do right by his mother, make his father proud, be a dutiful son… Jensen would come with him and help him pick up chicks. If Cougar had just gotten with the program a little sooner, he’d have seen how much it had hurt Jensen to do so - as it was, when he finally gave in, Jensen had been all for keeping their relationship a secret so that Cougar wouldn’t have to tell his parents. (Cougar had told his parents, and has not seen them for going on eight years now.)

Jake will make up ridiculous pet names for Cougar, names that are designed to make Cougar laugh. He’ll poke and prod and spout off the most ridiculous things to ease the tension in a room.

When they’re on leave, every day there’s a new flower arrangement in the front hall. Jensen never specifically hands them to Cougar, and there’s never any real meaning that Cougar can discern from them. (He knows; he’s checked, multiple times, because the meaning behind flowers is exactly the kind of trivia Jensen soaks up like a sponge.) Cougar counts that in the sweetness meter.

Jensen also lets Cougar drive. Sometimes.

If Jake wakes up first (rarely, if ever, but there’s been two or three times it happened) he prepares coffee. Strong coffee. And makes sure a cup’s ready for Cougar when Cougar pads, shirtless, into the kitchen.

Though the team will tease Jensen because he cannot, for the life of him, remember anniversary dates, birthday dates, to bring his gun, Cougar’s burger preferences, Cougar’s size in clothing, (heck, his  _own_ size in clothing), can’t remember where he left something, can’t remember to hold his tongue - though the team (and Cougar, yeah, okay, he teases too, but it’s friendly ribbing for the most part) harps on Jensen about all of this, Cougar has to admit.

When he wakes up, silent and still and staring from a nightmare of tiny bodies burning in twisted metal, Jake’s there, one large hand splayed across Cougar’s chest, wrapped around Cougar like an octopus, his mouth against Cougar’s ear as he warbles (badly, but Cougar’s not going to tell Jensen how bad his singing is) Journey into Cougar’s ear - Jake’s  _there_ , and that’s the sweetest thing anyone could ever do for Cougar.


	30. Manhandling and Sex

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _30\. Doing something hot_ , **E**

Jensen was not so wrapped up in stereotyping and strict sexuality that he wouldn’t easily admit, when people asked who bent over for whom, that he was almost always the one to be fucked. He normally said this at great relish and with great description, because the people asking were almost always fellow soldiers who were looking to sneer at Cougar and Jensen, and while Jensen could take it, Cougar was still sometimes touchy about the whole “two dudes” aspect because of his upbringing. So Jensen turned it into a joke, laughingly admitted that it was him grabbing his ankles or going down on all fours or whatever the hell terminology some dickass wanted to try and anger Cougar with this time.

And Jensen enjoyed the hell out of it. He loved when Cougar would suddenly pin him against the wall of their shared room, hand gripping possessively at Jensen’s dick. He loved Cougar coming home worked up from Jensen’s teasing and taking so little time to prep Jensen that Jensen was pretty much limping the whole next day. He loved it when Cougar moved him around, prodded and poked him into the correct position. He loved posing himself, and being posed; loved riding and having Cougar ride his ass. He loved everything about his sex life and there really wasn’t anyone who was going to change his mind on this. Like, never.

But still. There were those few times when Cougar would lie back and let Jensen manhandle him. And Jensen could - fuck, Jensen could carry Roque on his back over rough terrain to get to a base half a jungle away. Jensen could certainly lift Cougar and pin him to the wall. Pick Cougar up and position him how he liked.

It was rare, but even more precious when it happened. When they’d get back to their shared apartment and Cougar would be hard in his pants but not reaching for Jensen. Jensen would reach for Cougar and something - if you asked, Jensen wouldn’t be able to name it, he really wouldn’t - just left Cougar’s frame and Jensen knew Cougar didn’t want the reins that night.

Nights like those, he had a bunch of choices. This night, he grinned, rough and wild and a little predatory, and slowly opened the buttons on Cougar’s shirt. “You’re going to let me do whatever I want tonight?” he whispered, the apartment dark with outside streetlights creeping in through slats in the blinds. It was barely enough light to see the way Cougar’s eyes dilated, his nostrils flared. Licking his lips, Cougar breathed out, “Si.”

The vest came off of Cougar first, the white button-up shirt then shoved down shoulders and arms to tangle around Cougar’s wrists. Jensen hadn’t undone the buttons at the cuffs, and while Cougar could certainly jerk free any time he really put his mind to it, tonight, when Cougar started to reach forward and was restrained by the material of his button-up, he made a helpless, whining sound in the back of his throat and in the darkness Jensen could see his hips buck.

Jensen smiled.

“Let’s get these boots off,” he whispered, bending down and letting his fingers trail over the columns of Cougar’s thighs, his strong calves, to pick up first one foot, then the other, pulling off boots and socks before Jensen nuzzled at Cougar’s groin. There was a hissing sound and a thunk as Cougar’s head hit the wall, and the hat was pretty much knocked off of Cougar’s head to hit Jensen in the face.

Picking up the hat, Jensen wrapped an arm around Cougar’s hips and  _lifted_ , picking up Cougar, too, and Cougar let out a sharp gasp of pleasure at that. Jensen had a sneaking suspicion that there were times Cougar liked to be reminded that Jensen could physically move him around - and to be fair, Jensen enjoyed being reminded of that himself.

It took a bit of work to get across the dark living room into the armchair, especially when Cougar was squirming against Jensen’s hips and wriggling like an eel, but Jensen managed it and sat down, legs splayed, to set Cougar on his feet before him. Their height difference wasn’t that dramatic, though Cougar was a skinny motherfucker, and with the way his eyes were so big he looked like an underfed schoolboy, hair loose around his ears and chest heaving as he panted with arousal, nipples pebbled and arms twisting against the cloth folds that kept them behind his back.

Smoothly, Jensen cupped Cougar’s groin and watched Cougar’s eyes roll back in his head. Grinning, he flicked open the button and then slowly worked the zip down, letting his knuckles brush against the underside of Cougar’s cock. Cougar whined, hips jerking forwards, but Jensen pulled his hand back. Hooking his thumbs at Cougar’s hips, he dragged down the jeans and boxers to leave them in a puddle around Cougar’s feet - and before Cougar could step out of them, he leaned forward, cupped his hands around Cougar’s waist, and lifted him up and onto the chair.

Cougar let out a squeak (he’d deny ever making such a noise) and a soft curse in Spanish, but Jensen had him where exactly the way he pictured: naked, hair down, ankles and wrists hobbled by his own clothing, knees spread on either side of Jensen’s hips, off-balance and definitely, eagerly interested.

Smirking, Jensen lowered his head to the cock that bobbed near his chin, bending a little (uncomfortably, but this wasn’t the main event, not yet) to get the tip of Cougar into his mouth. Cougar let out a gasp, and while Jensen worked Cougar higher and higher, he dug in his pocket for lube (yes, he had put it in his pocket earlier, and yeah, part of the reason he had was because he had prepared _himself_ , thinking Cougar would fuck him against the kitchen table when they came home, but there was enough left to get Cougar ready) and then awkwardly undid his own pants and pulled down his boxers enough to let his dick out.

Then he pulled back, dragged Cougar closer, and pushed Cougar’s hips down.

He wasn’t inside - he hadn’t prepped Cougar, hadn’t prepped himself, and Cougar didn’t do this normally so it was very, very important to go slow - but his dick was pressed up behind Cougar’s balls, and the half-bitten off whimper that escaped Cougar’s reddened lips was worth it.

And yeah, it gave him time to get the cap of the lube open and warm it a bit in his hands.

“I’m gonna make you ride me, Cougs,” he growled, voice low and possessive as he trailed his fingers up and down Cougar’s cleft, darting in to press against the ring of muscle, then pulling back. “I’m gonna sit back and put that hat on your head and watch you come from my dick alone, you got it?”

Because Cougar could fuck Jensen through his babble to blissful silence, but it was much, much harder for Jensen to fuck the silence out of Cougar, to have Cougar mewling and snarling like a wildcat in bed, and Jensen aimed to have Cougar  _screaming_  by the end of the night.

Cougar’s breath left his chest in a soft punch, and his heart was beating fast enough that Jensen could practically feel it when he took the hat he had placed on the side table and put it on Cougar’s head at the exact moment he slid one finger knuckle-deep.

With a whimper, Cougar threw his head back, mouth open and gasping soundlessly, and Jensen worked him steadily, slowly, getting two, then three, then four fingers in, going light over Cougar’s prostrate in order to keep from ending the game too soon.

Above him, Cougar writhed and gasped, chest slick with sweat and thighs trembling, voice getting louder and louder. He was whimpering now, Spanish flowing from his tongue as he fucked himself back onto Jensen’s fingers, gripped tight to Jensen’s hips with his knees, gasped and let out curses when his erection brushed against Jensen’s own. When Jensen felt he was sufficiently loud enough, he pulled his fingers out - earning him quite a few unsavory names in a broken voice that was much louder than Cougar ever normally had in any kind of sexual encounter - and squeezed out the remaining bits of lube onto his dick, slicking it up as quickly as possible because he really, really was going to lose it soon.

Then, he leaned back, gripping his dick in one hand, and guiding Cougar down with the other on Cougar’s hip.

When the tip of Jensen breached Cougar’s ass, Cougar let out a half-howl, half-keen, and there was a tearing sound from Cougar’s shirt. It still seemed to hold, but Jensen wanted to be in Cougar entirely before Cougar went wild.

So he took his other hand off his dick, placed it on Cougar’s other hip, and dragged Cougar down until Jensen was balls-deep in Cougar’s ass.

Cougar shouted Jensen’s name, thrashing above him.

With a lazy smile, Jensen kept his hands on Cougar’s hips, not letting Cougar lift up, not letting Cougar move. It was the most difficult part of the evening for Jensen; Cougar squirming around him, hot walls contracting and twisting and those wonderful, delicious sounds Cougar was making - all of it made him want to throw his hands up and let Cougar ride him.

But Jensen had said he was going to  _make_  Cougar ride him.

When he figured Cougar had had time to adjust, he lifted Cougar up until only the very tip of Jensen was inside, and then slowly dragged him down. His arms bulged, trying to keep Cougar from thrusting down faster, trying to keep Cougar’s writhing from increasing the pace, until Cougar was sobbing and shouting and snarling at Jensen.

Then, Jensen began  _fucking_  Cougar.

It was hard, fast, Jensen and Cougar both too keyed up for it to go very long - Cougar coming first  _with a scream_ , thank god, because Jensen was pretty certain when he came his brain was going to dribble out his ears and he was going to be useless. Then again, Cougar dragged Jensen right over that edge anyway, with the way he went limp and boneless in Jensen’s grip, purring against Jensen’s chest.

They laid there - or rather, Cougar lay slumped on top of Jensen, Jensen sat there - and Jensen tried to blink his vision back into focus.

Cougar grumbled when Jensen tried to move, and after a few more unsuccessful tries Jensen just ripped Cougar’s shirt the rest of the way off - Cougar’s thrashing had already kicked off Cougar’s jeans and boxers - to clean up his shirt and Cougar’s chest, and then he curled his body around Cougar’s and closed his eyes.

“ _Gracias, mi amado_ ,” Cougar whispered into Jensen’s ear.


End file.
